Poem: An Hour Before Dusk

An Hour Before Dusk

Late in the day, you sit and gaze over the valley.
a light wind blows, bringing the sweet smell of lilacs.
Somewhere, finches sing.

Your feet are bare, and the afternoon sun brings sweat
even as your feel wallow in the grass
and find the cool black earth below.

The day has been full
of love, anger, disquiet, confusion and tenderness
but now it is time to cease,

to allow God the time to wreak peace in you,
despite the thunderstorms that echo
on the far side of the mountain.

The storm will sweep across the valley tonight.
It will not be denied, but for now, it is distant,
and you have the time to be, and you shut your eyes, remembering

that in faraway china, the dragon sings of vigor,
not destruction, and your imagine the roar of the storm as yours,
the dragon rising, strong, despite the stillness

or because of it.

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The picture was taken in Rupert, Vermont. You can click on it for a larger version.