This is an original poem of mine, written while going through a very retrospective and entropensive time in my life.

AN EVENING IN LOVE


The Evening tends to slip by me,
with swiftness and stealthness that no eyes can see.
The sounds, the smells, the thoughts, they pass;
steadily surrounding my thoughts, like wind into long grass.

The golden wisdom of great minds offered,
to me from above, although some have professed,
to gain for themselves, all the secrets and above,
their plight was the same, their destiny of love.

My heart is aware of the danger, there’s plenty;
of laughing and loving and busily scurrying.
The tasks of the day, we complete by hurrying.
The scents of the night, they start to hinting.

When evening falls, the sky begins to darken.
The shadows they creep in, while the dogs are barking.
The sky shows only a fraction of it’s numerous moods,
Nevertheless, starts to heavily intimidate the day’s attitudes.

The day’s sounds, sights, and lights,
now fade in shades of red, blue, and white.
The sounds of evening begin to intrude,
as tiny stars open up their eyes to set the mood.

If we take time to stop and pray,
we quickly summarize events and hours past, that day,
and perhaps, in thoughts and deeds, many more,
while wondering, still what tomorrow has in store.

We lift our prayers and gratefulness
for God’s arms so strong and loving.
We have shared our thoughts, pride, and energies,
with some, who gave no more than nothing.

Yet, I feel alive with feelings,
all of them, neither good nor bad;
rather, a full and colorfully large spectrum,
with which I have a choice to be happy or sad.

God gives us Grace, He gives us Glory,
then it is up to us, to create the story.
It can be a story of successes and strengths,
or it can tell of failures, tears, and defeats, at great length.

It is up to us to choose the colors of emotion;
to paint and liven the canvas brightly, with texture and dimension,
or only paint with flats and drabs,
a solitarian, one-dimensional derision.