In the time of times and the way of Man, enlightenment is just a stone's throw away. Happily the babes in arms dance in the fields of Morning Glory. Upon the risen sun, daylight looms and dispels the air of mystery like no other. Another day in which to play, the children romp with giggles of delight. Behold the glory before the eyes that see not. Behold the end of innocence and glee. Behold, the lamp is unto itself alone and complete.
In all the born days, life dwindles until eventually, the escape so ardently sought, runs for it's life ahead of the grasping hands of death. Fleeing, we free no one.
As always, the sun sets and the time of darkness grows impatient. The night sings it's song of praise, but there is no one to hear. Sadly, morning comes once more to warm the hearts of children and grownups alike. Differences mean nothing and yet the day shines for it's very existence. Crossing the daylight, the meadow blooms and seeks to coolness of night.
In the endless cycle of our lives, there is never any time like the present.