Sometimes Poem by Smoky Hoss

Sometimes
late into the severity of evening
the song of God's heart
can be found
far more clearly than
in the refulgent day.
Sometimes
the depth of life's desire
is more keenly distinguished
in the dark than in the light.
Why is this?
Could it be too many distractions appear
when chaos is constantly visible,
when noise from without
drowns sounds from within?
Is humanity prone to
see best in darkness?
Hear clearest in silence?
Sometimes in the nebulous night,
I learn, I see;
I find, I hear.
There is this
kiss of recognition,
in a lone drop of rain;
this rolling melancholy,
upon a distant peal of thunder;
a tremor of anticipation,
carried by the wind, through rustling leaves;
and a hope moving in clouds, dancing over
the moon's faint smile.
For there is where
a slender, merciful voice speaks:
'Pay attention.
This stuff matters.
These things are sacred.
Let the peace enter you.'
Sometimes
I am able.
And it's then
the abundance of the holy
brings me to an overflowing recognition, where
for a moment,
now and then, here and there,
in the dark and silence,
I can touch,
listen, look and
know.......
Sometimes...
...sometimes.