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Miles Outside of Metropolis
We’re miles outside of metropolis
the six of us scattered on the wet green grass
and the air of the summer night is cold.
I lay here on my back
and feel the drops of dew mount
on the tips of blades of grass
seeping into my back.
The hairs on my arms stand up
and I feel goose bumps enveloping the skin of my body,
yet I am not stirred from the cold.
I am tranquil on this algid night.
have I seen so many stars in my entire life.
The navy sky above me
copious with its lustrous five point stars
all so defiant in their shapes.
It all seems so tangible, so close
no boundaries stand between us.
Innumerable shooting stars
fly across the blue.
Everything is still,
everything except the trees.
The trees respond to the light wind,
swaying their branches in perfect horizontal motion.
I can hear its leaves collide against each other
making a soft rustle of sound.
And among the collage of stars
stand a large luminous moon.
I have seen that same moon on many nights before,
did it appear quite as close to the ground that I lay on
as it does tonight.
I raise my hands up in the air,
the incandescent orb is in arms’ reach.
I can see its craters, its surface;
it is more than a shiny speck in the sky,
it is the source of radiance on this dark night.
The moon’s reflection is on the lake,
and casts a shadow endless in length.
The lake bares no current as during that day.
I can see ripples in the water
but they are captured in time,
still in their motion,
as though I am looking at a photograph.
I lay here in nature’s arms in awe of it all,
wondering how the lights of my city
could divert my attention from such effulgent beauty.
I am inside a perfect summer’s night;
in this place you may call the middle of nowhere.
But as we six lay here
Isolated from the rest of world,
the beauty of beauty:
it can not be found just anywhere.
But maybe when we separate ourselves from the everyday,
a shadow of the moon will run towards us.