The Time Is Night Poem by Peter S. Quinn

The time is night
In its all alone landscape
While the moon is bright
Of shadows flame shape
From the hours deep dark
And glow clouds above
Where silences will spark
From turmoil of inside love

The time is found
In the nowhere of everywhere
Turning constantly around
To here and then to there
Steadily about to pass
As the Sun again goes down
Shadows ferment like glass
In its gyrating crown

Love is like eternity
Always moving forward on
For the inner glows to see
And transmit lives rubicon
Paradise in slumber steam
Seeds of the faith awake
Oceans of its deep stream
In its moment's take