the promise of tomorrow

this evening spread wide into prussian blue

and violet

and inside those sheets of glowing clouds

were threads of salmon and pale butter yellow

that smeared and melded into one.

and my heart

softened like the day

and was grateful

for this everything . . .

inside and outside

this moment.

as low my fires of drift-wood burn,

i hear that sea's deep sounds increase,

and, fair in sunset light, discern

its mirage-lifted isles of peace.

excerpted from "burning driftwood" by john greenleaf whittier

here's some beautiful music from david sylvian entitled, "come morning" . . .

"God is in the silences
between the rhythms
rise and falling
the starring of the skies of blue
the promise of tomorrow's calling
hey ho and away we go
hey ho come morning"