Light Meets Day Poem by elizabeth wesley

Each gleaming light shines like a sun
Expanding awesomely in curling fires;
Each cloud forms a grotesque face
A face that knows not its bizarre desires.

We ascend in separate ways toward the sky
To merge the fantasy that forms the trance;
We turn our eyes to engage the dream
And find the song that weaves the dance.

The violin throbs with threads of silver
The french horn sobs with tears of gold
And time found notes to knit the music
That was too tenuous to hold.

In the crowd were so many anxious faces
Ready to speak, to smile or frown;
They kept motionless in those quiet places
Where dark sorrows tied them down.

In what new time or space do we yearn
To pace the thousand steps that lead before us?
In what new light or darkness can we turn
Before time ends and darkness abhors us?

The lamp is out, the dream now forgotten
The music has stopped and a candle wastes away;
Through tangled hopes and dreams they passed
To find the place where night meets day.