When Darkness Nears
When darkness nears and embers die,
the wind in trees a distant sigh,
the end of day like a lover’s voice nearby.
The night draws close, a fond embrace;
the heart then slows its frantic pace,
and fear drifts off as a calm breath takes its place.
The cradle of a velvet wing,
it holds us in its gentle swing,
and peace slips in with the songs of our dreams will sing.
The end of day, the passing year,
the rush of time need cause no fear,
we’ll love the night and its myst’ry now so near.
T: Philip A. Porter (*1953) 1991. M: David Hurd (*1950) 1990. Q: Singing the Living Tradition, Unitarian Universalist Association