Golden Hour

How the light falls, and what it reminds us.

Hues dance to the tempo of a soft, warm glow

Lights falling in and around a field of vision

The decorated watch in awe as the light dances to their music

Unseen and sonorous like the babble of a river flow

Gods and Seraphim watch from their dilated kingdoms

They play games as we dance and dream of sugar

Sweet things to push, push us to the next

Slowly guided and dim, our vision decreases

Where we came from wouldn’t matter in the slightest

How the lights remind us of our home

Where we are, and who we claim to be our salvation

Slowly, the sun sets again, slowly, as we grow old

My mind was once was, but it could not survive

In the way that these lights show themselves to me

Slowly, I lose my mind again, slowly, and I grow young

In the way I’ve been, and in how the light speaks

The shadows and the light, and how they speak, they are the same

If there was one without the other, then it would not have a name

As always,

Gabrielknowseverything