A Zen Moment In the Mountains

I sip my wine in the purple shadows of the evening, where the fireflies flicker like lanterns on an ancient river. The moonlight dances upon the ripples in my glass and its there I see eternity in the songs of an old traveler. That weary man is I, alone on this balmy dream. Forever a traveling leaf on a winding stream. Forever a thought that once viewed such a beautiful night. In a place like this, where mountains touch the sky.