sacred pasture

-ONE LONELY QUIET NIGHT-


IT WAS A MOONLIGHT EVENING,
WHERE SHADOWS FLARE UPON THE STREETS.
THE SILVER SKIES...
GLIMMER WITH THE SANDS ON THE GROUND.
THE COLDNESS OF THE WIND....
OPPOSES THE HEART THAT BURNS WITH DESIRE.


THE LONELY POEM AWAITS,
AS THE HANDS OF THE WRITER GRIEF.
WITH SADNESS AND DESPAIR,
HE LIFTED HIS PEN AND SEEK FOR THE WORDS.
BIT BY BIT HE SOUGHT.
AND BIT BY BIT HE CRIED.


THE PICTURES OF YESTERDAY,
THAT HE RECOLLECTED,
AND THE ART OF TOMORROW
THAT HE HAD PAINTED,
ALL SEEMED JOYOUS IN A GLANCE.
THE GREEN MEADOWS AND THE SUN,
THE CHANTS OF THE BIRDS THAT FLY,
THAT SERENADES THE BLISS.


BUT AS HE LOOKED ABOVE,
ALL HE IS THE DARKNESS.
THE EMPTY SPACE THAT ALLEVIATES HIS JOYS,
THOSE EMPTY SPACE THAT FILLS HIS HEART.


MORNING WILL COME SOON,
AND THE SUN WILL BREAK SOONER.
HE CLOSED HIS EYES
LAID UPON WITH TEARS.
HE PRAYED FOR THAT DAY
THAT THE SUN WOULD SHINE
AND HE'D BE SMILING ABOVE
THAT LONELY QUIET NIGHT.