In the western sky where the sun hangs low
golden clouds, floating archipelagoes,
drift dreamily by in a twilight blue,
moonrise hearkens in a rainbow of hues.

Above gentle waves on a black sand beach,
seagulls glide effortlessly as they screech.
Their plaintive cries become a haunting sound
to welcome the night as the sun goes down.

As the bejeweled ceiling slowly occludes
obsidian blanket, diamond suffused,
to usher our spirits off to sweet dreams.
A celestial blessing it always seems.

Reflections on a day of life and love,
universal mysteries from above.
Sounds of the ocean, susurrus and deep,
a perfect lullaby to which I sleep.

M. Zane McClellan

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