Blued in Layers (at sunset)
By Jacob Goins
Tracing the Sun’s path down
Where tree fringe becomes the mountain’s crown
Ablaze and glorious for a time,
‘Til the sun ducks nimbly to resign;
I cast all thought aside.
Blued in layers lie the mounts,
Bluer as the sun sidles out;
I sidle up to the day’s end,
Dirtied to be cleaned again,
By mercy only breathing in.
Be thou my rest, my peace
In my waking hours, in my sleep,
My first thought even in drowse,
Repose from scrutiny and plough;
Abide within me now.