If I could, I would sleep all day and wake in the brilliant night
Day expects too much
Day expects grass to be green; the sky to be blue
So intense, so proud the sun, that nothing else can shine  
Selfishly casting shadows to anyone who gets in her way

The day is a child wearing a toy crown
Clouds bring tears when the wind blows that crown away.

The night is dazzling and humble
The night is dark so the stars can shine
Moonlight tells the green grass to rest and watch the sparklers burn
The night is a candle and we are the flame that lights it

Road construction ahead. Another pending relationship. Potentually harmless. A fly stuck to the windshield. Its smashed body meaning as much as the life it once had. Just past the corpse the sign comes into view: "Detour" The break up begins. No apologies, no explanations. Just maybe the wind.. it passes, taking no sides. Beyond the sign is a graveyard, holding silence. Holding the hands on a clock. Holding back all but that wind.

Regardless of faith, we begin and end with it.
Regardless of our dreams and the pillows they fall on.

Regardless of our time and the clocks they hide in.
Our mirrors with the movie reflections.

Regardless the ants and the picnics we bring them.
Our cars we drive and the gas that drives us.

All the problems that tea and war couldn't fix.
Our closets with clothes and monsters that don't fit anymore.

Our minds our God.
We begin and end with it.

A display of warmth and blush would once make its way down the tree.
Gracefully it left, like a final bow at the end of a play; so frail, yet, quite tender to the eyes of the admiring audience.
Mornings pass dressed in suites and ties, carrying a briefcase of winter clouds.
Mucky leaves now slop their way around, hitching a ride on the nearest boot or swift ambulance.
Still, some stay close to home; never gliding too far past its trunk.
They watch lovely arms that once held them tight.
Rest and sway... a mother rocking her empty cradle