The colors of the evening sky
Run like waterfalls to the earth
The midnight dark follows them
But will never catch them
For it does not wish to

Through the still dark
Celestials peer down
Filling the night sky
With distant calming light
And curious eyes gaze back

Intently watching
Those gods they named above

I stand in line
Waiting for my coffee
Not a thought in my mind
And then one enters
The thought of how thoughtless I am
How vacuous my mind is

Why do I so rarely wonder
So rarely toy with things beyond me
Where are the thoughts of my youth
And am I the person I used to be?
The barista handed me my coffee
I didn't realize that I had already paid

I smiled and left the shop

Skilled with his hands
In forming the clay
But not with his words
As many did say
He spoke with water
And his spinning wheel
A man of no words
Yet one could feel
The struggles he had
In the vessels he made
Without signal or voice
A message conveyed
That indeed we all toil
Beneath a ceaseless sun
Striving to reach again some day
The Garden in which we begun

Of graves there are three
At the edge of those woods
Never more never less
Throughout the ages

Whom they honor
None living know
Save for those who wander
At night alone

Beneath the once shattered moon

Sightless birds
Over streams of gold
A setting sun
On empires old
The night to come
Sweet stillness bring
A warming darkness
Before the spring

Pick me up; stain my soul
With gold and lacquer
Make me whole

Skillful hands gently piece
Me back together
So the pain might cease

Accentuate my fatal flaws
With golden Ichor
Expose my cause

That I might at last be renewed
And despite my faults
Perfection exude

Set in the sky
Thin and mellow
Soon to sleep
From blue to yellow
A gilded sunset
Entwines with dusk
Deep purple and gold
An evening lust
Below the trees
Dark green and black
Watch a setting sun
That won't come back