The sun shines on behind the hill,
I see echoes of it still;
though sunset isn’t mine, then done,
yet it brings to me a thrill

to see my star in blazing glory!
Then it’s someone else’s story.
Dark, it seems has finally won,
but night’s lights find my territory.

I understand those points of light
are stars like mine and just as bright,
but I live close up to the one
which just now left me to the night.

Perhaps the fear of early men
was light would never come again
after setting of the sun,
waiting, wondering, if and when.

But sunset signals me release
as ghosts of sins which stalk me cease,
soon swept into oblivion;
I lay them down and sleep in peace.

And as I sleep I’m off to live
in vivid dreams, a fugitive
from that which dogs my daily run:
those sins too precious to forgive.

But sunrise in the east is found,
and then begins another round
of waking dreams from which is spun
a thought to yet be sunset bound.

And so I press on day to day
and look toward sunset as I pray,
and question with each orison
just how and when I’d gone astray

and thought too much of having fun…
and sought too much to have my way.