The sun must set in order for the stars to see, Do not wish to shine too brightly; learn to appreciate The darkness within the gentle glow of evening light. The moss at the forest floor waits for you to know

That footsteps do not take away, but hide The hopes of every secret flower, held so near, To breathe a breath of borrowed time, reach out to fear. May every silver shadow whisper softly loud

As the whispers rise to high, the time waits still In the embrace of every light that boldness brings, Seek tiny wishes hidden in the setting sun, Romancing every note of nature’s song along the way.

Escape with twilight, seek the meadow’s wings, Nature sings of giving time for every heart to roam, With every flower that’s met on a dusty path, beckon home.

• Robert Frost