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