I sit by on the backyard chair,
Rocking back to face the sun.
I sit by in silence over dusk
Amongst the cadence of a cricket chorus.
I sit by with a fleeting stillness in time,
That warm aura in the sky on the horizon as if for hours.
I sit by the sound of a watch's gears,
Ticking and turning every second to the next day.
I sit by in thought,
In a quiet expanse, where the noise and silence coincide.
I sit by in this single scene,
In the Elysium of small things.
In the span of this one minute of simple nothings
With night and day in hanging threads
Watching the moment wax and wain
Till the light will snuff out
When the moon will arise
And the new day will weave its warm rays again,
Simply,
I sit by.
Rocking back to face the sun.
I sit by in silence over dusk
Amongst the cadence of a cricket chorus.
I sit by with a fleeting stillness in time,
That warm aura in the sky on the horizon as if for hours.
I sit by the sound of a watch's gears,
Ticking and turning every second to the next day.
I sit by in thought,
In a quiet expanse, where the noise and silence coincide.
I sit by in this single scene,
In the Elysium of small things.
In the span of this one minute of simple nothings
With night and day in hanging threads
Watching the moment wax and wain
Till the light will snuff out
When the moon will arise
And the new day will weave its warm rays again,
Simply,
I sit by.