“He loved her without
desperation and needs
and wants.
With his naked soul,
he loved her,
and dreamt
of her clothed
in white dancing
beneath the moonlight
as the stars
grew jealous of the way
she moved.” 
― Christopher Poindexter

It got late very fast. The moonrise was intense. It called it’s invitation to me, but I could not attend. Visitors came and stayed to a deepening hour. The moon, regardless, enveloped the world in it’s misty rays.

Upon the visitor’s retreat, I slunk to bed, recalling at late hour my lack of trail experienced within this day. Debate ensued. Commitment to self won.

Clothing was dawned, and rewarded with accompaniment of a gentleman. The trail was near, and struck within moments. Discussion was one-sided as he held a camera and I a nestled tea, warming to my compromised lungs in the cold air. I spoke to him of my religious persuasions, recognizing the importance of intention over action- the meaning of the law more than the act thereof. Jesus, prophets, and human nature seeping from my thoughts, and passing into wafts escaping into the air.

No light by moonlight.

I turned from the trail and ascended to a promontory, reached out to the night and embraced her as a sister and a friend. Trail Maven was I, Queen of the Darkness, lit from within as the Moon cast a glow without.

A brief moment of enamored hilarity. Freedom among he who knows me well yet loves me despite that intimate knowledge. Poor fool of a man. He captivates me still.

Returning to the warmth of the homestead, accomplished, calmed, and restful. The trail healed and strengthened me again. Blessed.

(Thank you  to this video for the hilarity ensued: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gb5VtLL-JqU   Start at 9:29)