The wanderer turns his head
and sighs
at the beauty of the skies.

A grasp of moonlight
beckons in
from blushing day
to richer night
ever purer
ever light.

A path of moonlight
beckons on
from softer black
to deeper blue
ever honeyed
ever true.

A laugh of moonlight
beckons up
from colder earth
to star strewn sight
ever blissful
ever right.

The wanderer turns his head
and cries
at the witness of the skies.