Where the sun stops And the light fades, And the dark deepens One finds a subtle Horizon rest- Within this symphony Of great spheres- Strings aloft, Horns a summit of air, Percussionists not a beat To flare- Safe harbor, so to speak- A point Without a peak... For Time has no say, With cycle in pure alignment, The movement paused Defying slip or stray, The conductor's wand not a sway- Here I also find You, In the still Without space, Suspended On High of Grace…