The Day of Reconing

Sitting alone as she sings
Surrounded by birds, bees and trees
Softly as the mellow leaves
Carry her voice away.
Swept up in the wind beyond the water,
Are sounds of harmony and laughter;
She is humble.
She is free.
She is gifted.
She is me.
Aside her stands a devoted man
With eyes so keen
And heart so clean;
Joins her hands
As they commence to dance,
As though they could not be seen.
And inside all their laughter play;
Music not yet heard by day
From struggle they reap their joys unswayed.
The lurking shadows defeated by their prey,
Have no choice but to go astray.
This is the day of reconing.