Song Of The Night

The meadow sits silent with no movement, Vast and empty 'neath the moon's soft light. As I sit I remember my Grandfather's words, Be quiet and still, child, for timid is the night.' 'You must earn her trust, be gentle and calm, The deeper the breath, the calmer you will be. When you have shown you're worthy of her trust The night will allow that her wonders you may see.' So I sit very still, breathing in the night, And slowly the meadow opens up with life. The moon flowers open their white satin cups, And the gentle breeze carries off the day's strife. The night-song begins, frogs and crickets lifting voices, The leaves rustle adding to the night's refrain, A brook babbles adding laughter to the chorus, And a slow tempo is added by the rhythm of the rain. Fireflies dance for the joy of the moment, A wise owl speaks of truths ancient and new, A luna moth drifts by, light and ethereal, And night faeries paint the meadow with dew. And the creatures of the night, the timid ones, Venture out in the safety of the moonlight's call. All guarded by the moon 'til the sun starts her accent, Then the moon smiles down and the moon flowers fall. (c) Candace 7/21/07 Return to Poetry Index