I’m hearing a yard symphony this morning mingling with a far away wind chime melody. The leaf cluttered gutter near me is the bass drumbeat keeping yesterday’s raindrop drips on tempo. The songbirds are a chorus of soloists. Two doves are cooing at the same time but one of them is a little bit off pitch. Sounds like beginning band when someone’s instrument needs a good tuning.

Today was a carbon copy of a summer day in sweet home Alabama, blue sky with a clothesline of white clouds pinned on the sky canvas of Father Sky. A big mocking bird sat on the topmost branch of a tall fir tree across the street and sang his heart out. Honestly, I think he sang for an hour or more. He should not have a hard time finding a mate with all his beautiful songs. Maybe he sings too much, irritating prospective mates who wish for some quiet time in their courtships.

I got hot and came in the house mid-afternoon, picked up a few quote books and my iPad, and sat down in my reading chair in my cool bedroom to do a little pondering. I thought about leftovers and then I thought about twilight. Don’t ask…

When I give my attention to God in prayer and thanksgiving, it’s usually a brief thanks from the porch swing as I greet another beautiful day and watch the songbirds. Then my prayers at bedtime and a quick thank you prayer for another day in the morning when I wake. I read the Bible and daily devotionals looking for scripture and quotes for my writing. I’m thinking maybe I’m giving God the leftover moments of my life and not satisfying him with my daily worship. Lot of us attend church on Sundays and try to stretch out our spiritual meal till the next Sunday. We eat those leftovers from Sunday to Sunday, all week till we need to be spiritually fed again on Sunday.

God deserves our committed time. We have to pay attention to our spirituality to grow in faith. Don’t fit God into empty places in your day, fit your day around worship with God. Colossians 3:17 reads, “And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.” I’m putting down my bird and butterfly guides and picking up my Bible more. I’m going to be more committed to the study of my faith.

As I sat in the yard tonight watching the sunset end a glorious day, I marveled at how the earth responds to the sunset. The twilight brings quietness and a soft coolness to the evening, a magical time of golden soft light. The light is wondrous as I look down the street and watch the fireflies wake and blink their nightlights. The massive magnolias and the tall old oaks are silhouetted in black. The earth pauses as the day creatures quieten down to a happy slumber and the night wakes with a full moon hanging in a purple sky of twinkling stars. I love to sit in the twilight and welcome the darkness. I feel closest to Chief then. “In the twilight hour, the sky transforms into a mesmerizing tapestry,” Unknown. I love the words “mesmerizing tapestry” because I am mesmerized every night by twilight’s magical wonder. It’s so beautiful I can see “the glories of my dreams.”

This poem, When Twilight Comes, by James W. Warnack has been read at every funeral in my family since 1935 when it was first read during the funeral of my grandfather, Paul Faulkner Lane. Thinking about this poem kept me awake last night till 2 AM. I could not go to sleep, could not remember the title or the author of the poem. Then I remembered the poem was glued to the inside cover of my Mama’s Bible. So at 2 AM I’m reading this poem, pondering on twilight. I always think of Chief at twilight and wonder if he’s watching the sunset and smiling down on our family. Here’s the poem —

When Twilight Comes

When twilight comes and I shall close my eyes

And friends step softly, thinking me asleep

Oh then, I think I shall begin to live,

And manifest, in many wondrous ways,

Those qualities of gladness and of love

Which now so faintly radiate from me.

Oh, then I shall begin to sing with power

Those songs which now I try in vain to voice!

And I shall speak in tones that shall not fail

To reach the ears of those I loved on earth

And those I knew and loved long, long ago.

Then shall I see the glories of my dreams

And hear the music of my own glad heart

And feel the thrill of angels presence.

Thus at twilight when I close my eyes

And friends stop softly thinking that I sleep

Oh, then, I think, I shall begin to live.

“The day is done, and the darkness falls from the wings of night, as a feather is wafted downward from an eagle in his flight.” — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow