Eveningward

In the half-light, in the evening
In the time between light and darkness
The day becomes a crawling shadow
That withers like grass in the bright sunlight
Morning sows the seeds, and the evening brings the harvest

The Moon's sickle cuts the sky
And the earth bows low before Crown of Light
And my mind begins to reel
And the stars begin their trembling
And thus I ask myself, "Will not my feet stumble?"
As I begin my journey
Onward, shadow-ward, eveningward