Given

The given of this sunset’s well of light –
the unconsidered gift of it –
the glowing harbinger of solstice night

before it comes to spread its length
and breadth and depth beneath,
above, abreast of us: the eerie locus

of a peace which weaves a freezing
meteorological indifference into our warm
mammalian sensate lives: the way some

sensibility now strives to say what’s
happening: the quiet is immense
and almost musical: as if it were

an anthem to a balanced tension
in the Universe so perfectly conceived
and carried out that there is nothing

possible to disbelieve: all is true. The sky
is spiraling away from blue. The aim
of everything is answered by the view.

.