Now is the time,
	Rich and deep,
	When Ancient Gods with
	Subtle, contented smiles
	Draw near the whirling earth,
	And with soft strokes
	Of celestial hue
	Erase and polish the daylight sky,
	That clouded and foggy
	Breath of other Deities; They
	Burnish until the evening sphere
	Deepens to its measureless sable tint,
	Mirror of the infinite.
	Then each Stately One spirals high,
	Disappearing in an aery scatter-burst
	Of twinkling stardust,
	Leaving behind
	The jeweled and inky orb.
	Now is the time
	Half of Nature drifts to sleep,
	Retiring from
	The uncommon scurry of the day,
	Exchanging the chains of Life
	For the tinsel lace of slumber
	Wherein all things real
	Vanish, and the wounds
	Of the diurnal world
	Close and are healed.
	Now is the time
	Flowers cease to blush,
	And the softly soaring birds
	Come to their rude nests
	To flutter once in instinctive rite
	Before assuming God's cloak
	Of serenity in spirit.
	Each creature, large or small,
	Is transformed,
	Becoming the essence of
	Its inner self, the reflective soul
	Of its simple being;
	And as the great silver-blue moon
	Stretches itself to smile
	Over the forest, stippling it
	With infinite intricate imaginings
	Of immaterial images,
	These selfsame sun-creatures
	Appear in their godly form
	As the Cosmic Mind
	Conceived them and brought them forth
	To be embodied
	By the golden day.
	Moonlight is the medium
	Whereby man may see, if he will,
	What lies within and beyond
	A familiar scene, a treasured spot
	Of time or space.
	In this orb's platinum sheen
	The lover's smile
	Becomes love itself,
	Blended with immeasurable variation
	Into and throughout a world
	Transformed and disclosed
	In all its perfect splendor.
	Now is that time;
	Behold it and rejoice.

	7/21/71 - 1/17/72