Meditation
In twilight times the balance in between
The beauties of the sweet is tinged with dim
Blue homage muting thoughts of sadder sheen.
The weight of twilight fills the heart’s wide brim
With happiness expressed with darker dreams.
A color mild enough to smell like pale
Silk velvet still has wavering vague streams
Behind it. Loveliness in dusk is frail
Enough to be invaded by a night
Of indigo desires or at the least
Of their Te Deums. Fragrances are slight
In evenings, turquoise turned away from morning’s east.
..At nightfall mind leans over there above
….The pure and struggles with black truth called love.
~ Phillip Whidden