Life and Rest

The beginning and the ends are my domain.

I am the first and the last.

My beauty is not obvious,

My necessity not well known.

I make my lands to shine a purest white

Though scarce be the day's cold light.

Harvest and gather, store and stow,

For I bring you rest from life's toil.

I am the year's morning, it is time to rise;

Toward the Sun and upon its strength lean.

I fill your rivers and enlighten your shoots.

The tenderest of beginnings are mine to give.

Burst forth from hard-shelled chambers,

lay open your embrace

I have so much life to give

And not a moment to waste.

Mine is the middle, the Sun my banner,

Waving it East to West in slow, controlled manner.

I bear it over the good, the bad, the just, and unjust,

but the unjust elude and extend my power.

It is not my place to make things right

only to give warmth and light.

I ripen and wrinkle all exposed.

What is it to me whether you protect your own?

I am the twilight of the year,

The last call and warning as the baring draws near.

Harvest the flowers and the fruits of the vine.

Whatever you leave behind is mine.

Celebrate and enjoy the fleeting light,

But also work to make your affairs aright.

For when I am done and the Sun has set

leave nothing undone that you might regret.