The birth of dusk

I listen to the rain

and the gentle thunder, of

the burgeoning skies.

Birds call in the distance

and the silver moon shines

serene, through the laden boughs

of the Bougainvillea.

Fresh scent of the wet earth settles deep
into my questing soul

and the cool wind blows quiet, immensely invigorating.

I witness the blossoming earth heave

in anticipation,

and sway to the grand orchestra
of the Universe.

The solitary Raven flapping his great black wing and I

watch in awed silence the magic unfold,

of dusk’s sweet arrival.