The Golden Hour

Meet me in the golden hour
When the colours are richer
Deep with their last breath

Meet me when the sky is pink
Rosy hues falling over the earth
Softness settling into hard places

Meet me in the bold scent of flowers
Reaching into the night for solace
Their beauty becoming something else entirely

I’ll be there as it all turns a shade of steely grey
Birds flying home feverishly
Cicadas making piercing urgings

I’ll be there as the world turns quiet
For just a second
And lets out one long exhale

I’ll be there in those fleeting moments
When the sun and moon
Are visible together

My time is the golden hour
When we don’t need to be sure of anything
When it can all be wrong, and right and true

My time is the golden hour
When everything is everything
And it’s all a beautiful paradox.

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