Behind the dark green mountain shadows,
below the purple dome, sketched smoke from jet flows,
the half shape of the blazing sun was setting slowly.
Its last gold dusts sunk over the prairie.
The grass was getting taller
as the Sun vagabonded and grow older,
along with her energy that kept losing,
like her shadow that shrunk over the oak tree limbs.
O land of dream, let her dig you up,
and hide under so she could lift her petal-like cup,
and allow night creatures to start their works
to build their futures that matter to the world.
O land of love, give her strength and hope:
When she rises up again around this globe,
all things and living creatures will re-energize,
so grasses keep growing taller under her eternal light!
Thong Ba Le
Virginia, April 2005