(hundreds of them,
thousands) through
the thick blanket of
darkness (darker
than evil, darker
than darkness herself)
cast over the night.
They pierced through
the 8 pm blackness
with ease (so many,
oh, every inch of space
was taken up by the
shining points of light)
and danced overhead,
in constellations we
marked out in our journals
(and constellations we
will never see) and they
were silent. The fire blazed,
higher, higher into the sky,
crackling and sparking,
throwing light into faces.
Faces that shone
with the simple joy
of being at that moment
then. Faces that grinned
and faces that laughed.
Still faces, with the
overwhelming silence
of the night time and the
silhouettes of the mountains
against the infinite sky.
We sang, swaying
in the light of that night,
we spoke, shining
with the heat of the fire
and the cold. We hugged,
we giggled, we held hands,
in the face of beauty
so powerful - we loved
each other, and the sky.
And we lay on the ground
(but really, we lay
in the sky) and we pointed
out sights more amazing
than the last, and we
were silenced.
What is it about people
and wanting to save memories,
hold them and keep them close
to your chest so they never escape
(except sometimes to your dreams)?
I was in that moment, swaying
to the music of two dozen voices
I love, I saw those faces lit
by the light of that night, and
I loved them ever more. My
hands were warm and my back
was numb, and my heart
was so very full. The mountains
laughed with us that night, grand
and tall. The sky loved with us.
The stars knew us and liked us
the better for it, and I kept that
moment (with the heat and the cold
and the love and the songs) in my
little cove of memories, deep within,
because it was too precious to lose,
now or ever. The stars knew it too.
No comments:
Post a Comment