It is evening
The moon sets in the west
The Globe heaves its trees and peoples
Slowly, imperceptibly, about its circle
The sliver moon's last corner slips away.

To my ear
Accelerations of cars
Electricity in the lines
The shutting of the neighbor's door

To my eyes
The first star peeks through the tree
The sky fades black to blue
The cat looks at me, then looks away.

Are we not observers
Of ourselves
Our simple task, forgotten, to observe?
To see how we react to a finite span
Punctuated by disharmony
To fully live the full four spheres of life
Night brings rest to refill our weary spirits
For another day of observing.