---

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.