The Golden Hour
A poem reflecting on the magic moment between dusk and twilight.
When evening comes and light begins to fade,
Before the sky her starry plain has tilled,
My heart within a golden strain is laid,
With longing, strong and deep, my soul is filled.
For songs more powerful run through my veins
Than mortal melodies of flesh and bone,
That blend and under dusk’s united reign
Yield time to face eternity alone.
“Oh golden hour lend your wings to me!
Toss, fling my soul upon your clouds like foam,
That I may sail upon your burning sea
Free to the sky from flaming sky to roam
Across the amber swells of your fierce realm
Wand'ring beneath the heaven's deep'ning dome,
Until your fragrant waters overwhelm
And break upon eternal shores- my home.’
‘For I would go with you, oh Hour of God!
And with one fleeting glance to worlds below,
Would turn my spirit toward the molten flood,
Immersed, undying, in your ceaseless flow,
And from the circle of the earth I’d flee,
Into the dream that stems from every soul,
Until I heard your music roaring free,
And felt my Lord's celestial thunder roll.”
Then in my heart immortal embers stir,
Respond to echoes from the distant choir,
And ancient thirsts of which desire was sure
Dissolve into the Hour's gilded fire!
Loud, loud! I’ll hear the music, like a stream
Rolling and moving to bright Zion's bay,
But then the quiet sun will sink and gleam
And fall beneath the earth—so ends the day.
And as the Hour fades, so fades the strain
Until its memory, soft and tranquil,
Falls like a feather, like a drop of rain,
Into my hungry heart, which thus is filled.
And it will wait for you, oh blessed Hour,
Will wait until the years wear it away,
And when my time has come beneath their power,
I'll sail upon your waters gold that day.
About the author
Marissa is an aspiring creative who deeply loves art of all kinds. She is a hopeless movie geek and book nerd who spends her free time buried in novels and practicing her violin. She hopes to use her writing to inspire her fellow humans.