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Poem

While moonlight fades from day parades 
for battles lost or won; 
and city lights show dimly bright 
their nightly random glow, 
we tell the tales of mystery 
as minstrel songs are sung 
to spirits of the silent night 
reconstituting Poe. 

Compassionate communion made 
as all await the sun, 
with glasses raised in fare-thee-well 
to moonlight on the run. 

Now listen to the west wind blow 
the lonely poplar twig, 
as brittle leaves in trees begin 
to rattle with the flow. 
We gather up a cord of wood 
for fire and make it big; 
but just enough to warm the soul 
as flame and fire burn slow. 

The liquid blue cathedral sheen 
of countless silver stars 
shines bright infusing light tonight 
as part of God's routine 
and we, uniquely blessed with so 
much more than less by far 
now gather here to share each year 
this loving, joyous scene. 

A bold and young astronomer 
observes the red orb Mars; 
he looks with pride and points straight up 
then blows a kiss to stars - 
a young man more excited 
with his universe than cars. 

We join in friendship circle 
here and pledge our common soul 
as each and every member sends 
a special thought to God. 
I feel the thrust of nature like 
a bud to blossom whole 
and gaze at space until the blur 
of blue is just facade - 
a universal miracle 
like diamonds formed from coal 
are equal to not better than 
the lowest locust pod. 

Compassionate communion made, 
as we await the sun, 
with glasses raised in fare-thee-well 
to moonlight on the run.

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