Ode to a Wondrous Evening
Dreams of perfect hills blanketed
with evergreen spires against an indigo sky.
Each twinkling light, a pinhole in the dome above
as silence dominates the air.
These fleeting moments which seem to drift, ephemeral.
How we long for time to slow to a crawl.
A mixture of mourning for those no longer here
and sheer joy on the faces of our youth.
Patience now as the air, cold, presses the lungs.
Contentment, real or not...accepted.
These shock waves of silence send shivers
and all stand still.
Only daylight may break transcendence.
Maybe. The beauty could linger...longer.
Tomorrow is of no consequence
when the night is as perfect as tonight.
