All in Twilight

I remember I sat all in twilight On those hills that oscillate Integrally spaced: two, three, four... Striking David's chord, all harmonious and solid. Under violet and orange. I remember the birds, in waves up and down, dancing in counterpoint so fluid and complex, all stretto and unrest. They spattered black dots against violet and orange. Too many to write down. Though, much better than music, and far less useless. Some manifestation of a secret law Not necessarily divine, But painting some apparition all the same All ghostly and glowing until moonlit light All things night. I have not asked for those few back hours again Those hills and those birds do not listen to us men.