The Evening Sun

Arched by the early Autumn sky
(without even a horizon haze)
along the sea edge, skipping the wavelets
the children came, wearing their true nature.
Each clothed only in the warm Siberian gold
of the evening.

It was the moment tempered by truth,
a wholeness created by simplicity.

Such matter costs nothing:
the priceless crystal of experience
when inner contentment counterpoints
to a timeless air,
in true harmony
with the salt wind whisp' from the sea.