When? (Morning, Noon And Night)

Always there is life which, rightly lived, implies a divine satisfaction. - Thoreau

when

oh, tell me when

when daybreak stretches out its arms in warm embrace?

when midday wipes sweat from its raised brow?

when still, silent, darkness whispers, "where are you?"

shuttering eyes in dreary slumber

when the music's over?

lying naked in a field of clover

glued to eternity, no choice but to adhere

as flesh recollects and soul declares, "i am here"

Author's Note

"But let us hear a strain of music, we are at once advertised of a life which no man had told us of, which no preacher preaches. Suppose I try to describe faithfully the prospect which a strain of music exhibits to me. The field of my life becomes a boundless plain, glorious to tread, with no death nor disappointment at the end of it. All meanness and trivialness disappear. I become adequate to any deed. No particulars survive this expansion; persons do not survive it. In the light of this strain there is no thou nor I. We are actually lifted above ourselves." - Thoreau