Something of a philosophical poem
As he lay by his bedroom window,
A magical portal to the still, luminous night towering above him,
Gazing upon the dancing lights amidst the dark, endless sea of space,
All souls from a forgotten past.
As he lay there awaiting his final breath,
He felt a sense of great longing never felt before that night,
In all the years he had been alive.
The Earth, the only home he had ever come to know,
Now seemed small and unfamiliar, exceedingly insignificant,
As he gazed upon God's beautiful canvas spread before him,
The ever so glistening jewls of light beckoning something deep inside of him forward,
like a beacon of light over rough, turbulent waters guiding a weary ship home.
He closed his eyes and waited for the familiar melody to begin,
The melody of life, of reverence, and of joy.
For he had heard this melody dozens of times over the span of his long life.
Sleek silhouettes joined as one as they lifted their defiant heads,
And thrusted them toward the heavens, their music emanating upwards
To their creator's palace of mystery and wonder.
It is not long before something unknown empowers his body,
Leaving his thoughts to drift to a place both unknown, yet somehow ever so familiar.
A place that forms the roof of all humanity and creation,
The one place where mystery never fades,
Where all wonder is bred with a blink of an eye.
The one place you are before you're born,
The one place you go where your heart has tolled its final knell.
He thinks of all this,
By his bedroom window,
Amidst the wolves' chromatic, harmonious blend
of relentless yearnings;
It was neither a death cry or ominous knell to his ears;
t'was the Moon Lullaby.
