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Wondering, The
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Potpourri When darkenss weaves a path across a golden sky and bids me wonder where an age has gone,
The Master's brush recaptures, as I watch the Eider fly, the fleeting, but eternal, brazen dawn.
I ask the sage to show me and His wisdom overflows and often I still outward thrust my rage.
The penance for my ire has worth as well as nought, as fleeting as the moment is my wage.
The peace of love and knowledge in time has soothed my soul and brought the wisdom I had sought to know.
The age of which I wondered prepared me for the dawn, when the sun again will weave its golden glow.
