She'll sit beside the window,
Hear the tree frogs and the birds,
And her mouth will move but softly
Without the sound of words.
And she'll gaze out at the sunset
Watching clouds in fainter light
As they tint themselves with purple,
Dressed for advent of the night.
As the night air, growing darker
Wraps its arms around the skies,
So too she feels a comfort
Of love shining in His eyes.
And her soundless words will wonder
That the God who brings the dawn
Will be there each cool morning
And his power will go on
Into the wind of night time
And be heard in tree frog call.
That the God who brings the sunset
Never sleeps, himself, at all!
She'll be wrapped in nighttime dew
And the dark obscure her sight,
But God will hold her safely
In the advent of the night.
postscript
Day five.