~

lost in thought, a deepened musing,

far away from noise and music,

welcome silence, unthreatened hush;

twilight’s western curtain of dusk,

slowly lifts, unveils her features,

displays a show for just two creatures;

celestial risings’s muted dance,

neath the moon one takes his stance,

the mighty hunter, Orion’s threat,

till from the chase he falls in sweat.

the stars connect in tale by numbers,

whispered tell from lips each utters;

in dreams our bodies join the arch,

heaven’s hosts with whom we march,

a nightly parade of planets calling,

till herald sounds the curtain falling,

when daybreak brings them sweet relief.

as one by one they fall... in sleep.

~

postscript.

a trip to Central Washington's wine country last week under a rising harvest moon begged a nighttime detour to Maryhill’s Stonehenge. the starry night, free of city light pollution, the constellations, the shadows of a full moon on cold granite... all so hauntingly beautiful... reminds us that we are gifted our role in the nightly parade of stars, the breathtaking march of planets that we need only look up to join.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TPK6iq0gnks&

The timpani crash of thunder
The gentle side drum beat of autumn rain
While violin and cello echo the gusting wind
The Nightingale sweet sound of the piccolo echoes in the dusk
Early morn and the French horn mimics the pheasants call
And the well played flute could be the blackbird on the wall
But this can't be
Because man can never truly compose natures music