Poem 13
The Daylight is Fading

The daylight is fading, the birds winding down,
Preparing the evening I hear all around,
The sound of the wind and the sound of the song,
Created by insects that rhyme right along.

There isn't a reason to stumble across,
The moment that comes when we each stand a loss.
Intentionally quiet and feeling quite sure,
That each has its meaning however obscure.

We seem disconnected, our heads in the clouds,
Snatching at moments while living out loud.
They're there for the taking, so precious and free,
Sit here for a moment in a chair beside me.

I'll share with you freely my life and my dream,
Of human conditions without all the mean,
Abuses of joyful expressions of thought,
As though this brief moment is easily bought.

We cannot determine the songs in the trees,
The hum of the crickets or buzz of the bees.
But deep down within us there rests an old man,
Whose wisdom is pricelessly drawn while he can;

Remind us that nature is not in control,
But parallels closely the notion of soul.
The knowledge that each of us moves through our lives,
A wisdom eternal that never quite dies.

It drifts through the airways,
And down from the trees,
It leaves me quite willing to say thank-you please.
Believing that each of us has touched the spot,
Where life moves more slowly and each of us got.

A peace and a moment, delivered by chance,
To remember the mystery and the romance.
To hear winds that whisper all we forget,
As brief as the sunshine whose rays now do set.

07.06.2013

©Copywrite. All Rights Reserved.

Charles F Berman Jr