Sitting By the Fire On a Moonlit Night
my friends and I are here tonight
by the bank of a mountain stream,
lying beneath the shades of trees
protecting us from the ghostly sky;
though never really afraid to gaze
at the clear sky and the full moon.
the gurgling stream slowly runs
with ripples that seem to dance;
I hear a distant echo beckoning
through the night, still and silent,
a primeval echo that fills the spirit,
a wanton call to be wild and free.
the smoke is rising from the fire
of twigs and branches and leaves,
blinding my eyes, reaching the sky;
how it burns, a giant in just a wink!
not minding at all me and the night.
I hold my guitar against my chest;
comes a melody, a soul’s harmony.
the small fire is slowly dying now,
settling its ashes on the ground;
the moon hides behind the clouds
and I am with my friends, sleeping.
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