Quiet as night
light creeps in,
luring hearts
to a candle dim;
needing not
to guard the plot
nor beg for sun
or wind.
Quiet as eve
the lifeless grieve,
hidden roots
bear morrows kin,
blossoms upon
undying graves.
Unquiet the day
the dawning shades,
oh fickle heart
whose petals shed,
awake thee
find the shades;
rise thee
from the lifeless grave.
Laugh heart again
by the sea of grey,
bright soul of night,
black heart of day.