Bare Ground

November 9, 2007
The shadows sway with the creaking trees.
The leaves fall in slow chaos.
The air, as crisp as leaves beneath our feet.
Everything is alive but still.

The death of the sun births the moon
As God lights candles across the sky,
His silent footsteps resound across the earth,
His fingers etching secrets into the universe.

The moon’s pale eyes reveal our path,
Our hearts,
At the foot of a mountain
We’ve climbed before.

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