As the sun goes down today,
That soulful voice is heard again
It warms the cockles of the heart.
The exquisite agony contained in those words
As they speak of the cows coming home to milk
and paint quaint word pictures of the homecoming.
The eyes are misted over now and they see a faint contour of the hills beyond
Or is it a dark trajectory of the homing birds?
What does it matter what the eyes see?
and what the mind makes of what the eye sees?
The large brass bell below the spire tolls a solemn toll,
its beat resounding amongst those hills.
The shadows cloud over as the night draws closer
And the heart grows fonder and is touched
By the unbearable lightness of being
And the mind is quivering with an interminable aching
A longing - an unfathomable pit of yearning whorls in the gut.
Omniscience making its presence - a sure thing!
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