Sunset

Crawling down the hill

Which has smoothed after the constant

Battering of the rains.

Breathing in the air

That has passed through the countless bodies

Of the inhabitants of the serene meadow.

Feeling the taut resistance

Of the many weeds who’s species

Have grown her for unknown millennia

He tries to grasp his place in the vast universe of now.

Slowly, he lies down besides the old willows

Who never stop their daily routine

Of slowly drawing the murky, but lively waters by which they grow

In these waters teem hundreds of varieties of fish

Trout, Bass, Catfish, Guppies

Even the seemingly invisible, and therefore worthless, microorganisms have their purpose.

But what is his?

So as he sits and ponders, the world continues its steadfast passage of time

The birds sing their young to sleep, the predators finish their meals,

And the sun’s last rays start to draw in for the night

Then finally, at the end, he at last knows

With great knowing closes his eyes, for the last time, but

The sun seemed to have saved a last ray just for him, just for a moment…

And he smiles, as the moon follows in its wake.