A Magic Night

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It was just one of those nights,

every log fit perfectly on the fire.

The moon was still waxing,

just about a turn from full,

so that we were all crazy with its light,

but still building.

The surface of the water held up a perfect mirror.

There were rooftop stories,

there were songs in the alley.

The cherry tree finally blossomed.

The attic was empty,

but the bowl never was.

It was one of those nights,

a reminder that things are unbroken.

A night of four elements,

it was one for the witches,

a loaded night.

I wouldn't have guessed,

waking up to the sun,

that it would be the night that left us shining.

That those songs would continue.

That what was released with a breath and a word,

would continue outward and up to the sky,

where the clouds are now pooling,

and the moon is now waning.

But that night, still unbroken,

took all its juice on the wind,

and the wind,

always comes back again.

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This work by mysticdave is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.