before sunset

in deepest silence thunder is most loud

so long to wait as sun falls into night

so many hope that all will turn out right

each of us hopes the world will make us proud

for far too long  heads bent beneath the cloud

we've let the fools define honest delight

and only said what they let us recite

it was so easy to stay in the crowd

now it is hard to be so cool and calm

as any pebble in a winter stream

when worlds depend upon more than just art

but tired bodies ache for some soft balm

it is not easy to blank out each dream

for joy insists on filling each sore heart