End of Day

Now, at the end of the day

Life's fiery sun harvest

Is born from eternal woods

Obscure life parading past

A slow procession of our toils

Harvest of hard labour

Or splendours of a triumphant army

Our dreary dwellings diminished

To almost invisible safehouses

Our poor possessions dropped

In a wild sea of plenty

A chaotic feast of blue and white

Delicate blossoms on our path

Timeless impermanence

As evening embraces all

I wrote this poem this morning

while standing in front of this painting

in the Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam

Painting by Jacobus van Looy: 'July' (Summer abundance) (1900)

https://www.rijksmuseum.nl/nl/collectie/SK-C-1645