Evening, when nothing is found
but what was lost in the day.
This is the time of peace:
the evening shadowed time,
dark and wanting nothing
after the day of expectations
that nourish and diminish,
and fill you with doubt
and with the joy of success.
The evening is the quiet space
of doing no more than being
with yourself, alone, not tugged
and battered by the scheduling.
The evening of stillness where
nothing of demand can be heard,
nothing but the slightest whisper of
the trees chatting with the breeze.
Evening, where thoughts wander,
and there is nobody to corral
them into any other purpose
but the presence of being here.