The onset of sunset

The southern winds blow through the bluebells beside the creek. 

The onset of sunset arises to greet the lilting lake.

While Aside the street, the dust of spanish moss falls soft on fallow fields; fallen red speckles hidden in their caresses

Blazing star blooms dense beside the swampland highways 

And the twinkle of chimes falls like light: gentle. and then soon disappears. 

Burnt oranges and cherry light cadence the sun's descent. 

I glance toward the azaleas as I come upon my transient abode. 

The chirps of hummingbirds in consonant harmonies with the bluebirds have now receded. 

The wind's pulse continues unhindered by the moons ascent. 

I tell myself that violence and sorrows are all that exist in this life. 

That prayers fall deaf on fallow ground. And salty tears rain unimpeded. 

But when the sun swells in his noontime melody to dance once more with the quiet moon in the company of coloratura. In the company of stars. 

This logic of absurdity seems to fade with April's morning rain. 

Each weeping willow and creepy vine that comes bursting through the cement counters all of my twilight terrors. 

I cast my eyes adoring to our god again. 

Every time I hear a child laugh, strings soar, or the percussive tap of my nephews feet upon the oakwood floors. . .

I wonder why I cried last night-

I praise god and dream again.