The Novice Navigator

Only in August moon boundaries rise high above the pride of lions , out on the dusty veld,they turn their heavy heads toward southern stars , Alarmed, the novice navigator reads his runes again, hunched low under the barren crags at dawn he steels himself against the summer rain, Thunder rolls along his weary spine as he defines his journey's end. Blossoms burst and twist up to the moon thirsting for the rain that ends so soon and as we all must struggle through the day, the novice navigator finds his way.