I’m wrapped in a netherworld
between fear and urgent turmoil
a shady region of late twilight
on the edge of dreadful night
what to do with the light.

Like the nightingale whose song
brings pausing, sadness, and hope,
blinking in a landscape of plains and *****
sadness of a creative life’s ending
a blending of sand and the hand of God.

My gut clinched in a tempest
rowing unknowing for shining sky.