Into The Pithy Pitch Black Night

Receding hours
In transient flow
Ancient mystery
Of the kindling wand
Calls forth the dusk
To its noble course.

And the sun, having borne
The drudge of daily strife
Like an old lady tilling rows
Droops in orange beyond the veil.

Soon the cordial moon and stars
The reins would grab - casting their glow..
Illuminating the fretful paths we tread
Heckled by the loaded dice we throw.

Into the pithy pitch black darkness
Thus we step, groping for meaning
And abiding grace, deep into the night
For goodness sake , when it always seems to be
Like heaven is much closer to the earth.

By Hope Kalé Ewusi ©