Moon On the Run

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.