Twilight, just a time of day,
The time between.
A peaceful quiet,
Time of togetherness and comfort, the end of our day, well spent.
His hand in mine, we walk the dew kissed meadow and stroll the wood line
Our bodies hold the heat of the day and our hearts are refreshed by the cool evening air.
Echoing and haunting calls of the wood thrush sing us to the house.
The warm amber light of welcome shines from the kitchen windows,
A softness of love, a refuge for us, for our hearts.
The beginning of the night, to rest , loved, in each other’s arms until morning…
But what of now,
This alone and empty now.
He has gone and the thrush calls just empty sounds,
He has taken the bird’s song with him.
Twilight time has turned sad and lonely
The loneliest part of the day.
Wet and cold is the dew covering the grass.
I have forgotten to turn on the kitchen light, again.
As the darkness of another lonely night promises to settle around my soul, I sink to my knees at the edge of the wood, where the meadow meets the trees
And sob into my hands, the tears flow and soak the ground around
me like a bitter rain.
Bitterness at loss, sadness for myself that without him I can not feel
The sweetness of this life, how the days warmth lingers on my body,
Cannot see the love of the kitchen windows,
Or marvel at the thrushes call.
Now all is dark and lonely, I pull my sweater tight to warm the chill
And rush to the dark house.
I slam the door behind me, shut out the sadness and darkness,
Ban the loneliness, quell the tears and turn my back on twilights’ pain.
Without him it has lost its magic,
As I have lost mine.
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