Did you ever spend the night beneath the stars?
To watch them twinkling away in an infinite sky, with a fat faced moon beaming down like kindly uncle as everything moved slow and gentle across the hours.
Perhaps you were stretched out beneath a tree at the edge of a woodland, with that gentle sound of leaves rustling in a warm summer breeze.
And the soothing sound of the night creatures moving through the carpet of greenery.
Maybe there was a river flowing in the distance, singing it's song as it rolled out to an unknown ocean.
Can you see it, that silver shifting water 'neath the moon?
Can you see, even just in your imagination, those million moons reflected in the dancing ripples on it's endlessly dancing surface?
And the night birds?
Listen, there they are, serenading you with their hoots and whistles, and croaks.
And oh, the cry of a fox, can you hear?
Did you ever do that?
I did.Long ago I discovered that the man who sleeps beneath the open sky, never sleeps. Rather he drifts with the magic of the passing moments. Always aware of everything that occurs in the spine tingling glory of those star-studded waking dream times.
And I recall lighting a fire of logs and sticks and leaves and watched the flames of it fill me with wonder. Saw the golden sparks chaotic ascent, lighting my night momentarily, before vanishing into memory.
And smoked my cigarettes.
And drank my coffee from a flask.
And wrapped myself in a sleeping bag.
And the fire dimmed.
And the dawn began to break into a new day with the chorus of birds like an avian orchestra celebrating their survival into a new morning.
Yes, the man who sleeps neath the stars, rarely sleeps, so caught up is he in the wonder of that unexplored part of life that most of us spend unconscious.
And is perhaps, better for it.
I like to think so.
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I am a poem, born immeasurably long ago in the explosion of creation.
And the words of me wandered long, lonely and unspoken throughout the endless universe.
Then you came, at last, and became the music that made me a song.
Hark, listen to our serenade of love that is written in the stars.
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