---

Your light, it fell upon me,
In blazing veils of gold.
But Day had reigned already,
And there was little warmth left.
The winds caressed the weary trees,
And sang a last lament--
Unknowing if the light
Would e'er again return.
The raven caws calmly
And turneth its way home.
The clouds trade their moods
With the waxing of the Moon.
The stars take their stead
And recite the names of Night--
As my mind falls in tune
With the eternal becoming.

---

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