The setting sun lets out a howl
On the whispered rising of the night.
Stars sing their sweet farewells
To its fading firelight.
The unclad trees stretch overhead
Swaying, surrounding me.
Wind whips through empty branch
Signaling for solemnities.
The forest knows what I do not
It hears of magic in the dark
And witnesses the silent odyssey
On which our souls embark.
But in this place I cannot stay
Lingering in its dusk.
We steal away to anointed lands
Footsteps fall in trust.