The Reaper

The Reaper

There is an hour
in the day
hence, the reaper comes.

No, not the one
separating the wheat
from the chaff—
(The reaper loves both).

The reaper’s arrival
comes with the moon’s
rising and the sun’s
melting descent.

The moment, this hour…
the elements—moon,
and sun separated
so it seems
by a small thin veil.

Actually this invisible
veil unites moon and sun
always within reach of
one another.

The reaper comes
yes, in ‘this’ hour—
so much obscurity
and with sickle in
hand NOT to separate

but to carefully—
ever so gracefully…
pull back the
veil ever so slightly

to allow the
blending chaos
to make its way
into newness.

This hour—
I sit
awaiting the reaper
and, before my
life becomes
once again.

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