Hushed, like the soft whisper of a blue jays wings in flight.
Settling in the willowy branches, rustling in the trees.
Calling with the breathy sighs of a gentle breeze.
Awaiting the gentle coming of the stars and twilight.

Hushed, like the falling of the night.
Darkness settling with comfortable ease.
Smudging the landscape as the last rays leave.
Millions of twinkling stars replace blinding light.

Hushed, like the early morning sunlight.
Lighting the world as it may please.
Watching patiently, the blue jay high in the tree agrees.
And once again, takes off in flight.


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