The sun makes its way As it does every day; It arcs across the heavens And then it slips away. The ruddy red sunset Insures we don't forget; Death comes in nature's plan A time to recollect. Dark skies mark many a night. Others beam from pale moon light; Stars twinkle far above In view or hidden from sight. Following nocturnal deep The time for rest and sleep; Comes the bright thread of dawn And charges to keep--.