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The Stars and the Falling Dew

By Hannah Flagg Gould

The sun, like a hero, whose chariot rolled In glory, has reached the west; And wrapped in his mantle of crimson and gold, Has sunken away to rest. The stars from the skies Look forth like the eyes Of Angels, the earth to view; While timid and soft, Their light form aloft, Comes down with the falling dew.✨

The flowers, that, oppressed by the monarch of day, Have bowing confessed his power, Are lifting their foreheads, relieved of his ray, To the cool of the evening hour. And each holding up🌸 Her emerald cup, Her delicate draught to renew, Their trust is repaid, While their thirst is allayed By the drops of the falling dew.

The birds are at rest in their own little homes, 🕊️ Their songs are forgotten in sleep; And low and uncertain the murmuring comes From over the slumbering deep. The breezes that sighed Have fainted and died In the boughs they were quivering through, And motion and sound Have ceased from around To yield to the falling dew.

And gently it comes, as the shadowy wing Of night o'er the earth is unfurled; A silent, refreshing and spirit-like thing, To brighten and solace the world! As the face of a friend. When in sorrow we bend— Like a heart ever tender and true, When darkness is ours, To the earth and the flowers, Are the stars and the falling dew.🌛

🌝🌙🌑Art: Under a Starry Night by IllustNation Nakata

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“𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤. 𝐒𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐱, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤.”

~ 𝐃𝐫. 𝐒𝐞𝐮𝐬𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 • 𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 • 𝐉𝐞𝐧 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐧

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"The angels are so enamored of the language that is spoken in heaven, that they will not distort their lips with the hissing and unmusical dialects of men, but speak their own, whether there be any who understand it or not." ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

🪽Art: Goodnight Angel by Edgar Jerins

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“When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.”

~ Henri Nouwen

🫂🌖Digital Art • Under a Red Moon

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