At the End of the Day

I happen to glance from my books
To a tree out the window, and
I see a fierce flush laid on it.
Papers scatter as I fly up from my chair,
Rush outside, and turn at the light's beckoning.
The Sun's fingers are flirting with the horizon,
And the Sky turns a kaleidescope of primeval colors at the touch.
Shall my eyes stab forward
In a sudden breath of fiery seeing?
Shall my mind grow, expand large enough
To encompass and comprehend the universe?
In my veins, the blood of ancient adventurers
Courses and pulses, threatening
To make my trembling fingers
Seize the bridle of a horse and ride away
To the world's end!
Then the reds, oranges, and pinks are mixed,
And slip and fade to purple and blue.
The sweeping longing recedes gently,
Diminished to a subtle throb sleeping in my heart,
Ready to be awakened come next sunset.