Observing a magical nighttime activity into the early morn. |
"Ozark Muses" Tonight, by a sliver of veiled moonlight outside a cabin window, set high on Ozark bluffs, through cold bare trees below; ran a meandering river of tail-lights, like lava emptying into a dark and remote abyss of timeless questions. Awakened by vehicular chatter passing, as if honking geese were migrating into the southern night, several single-filed semi-trucks with bright side-lights, made a magical entrance and exodus in the small slumbering town. Hypnotic carnival-like lanterns seemed to be waving. Perhaps a band of gypsies in search of a suitable nighttime camp? Midnight; the partial glow of a rising white moon followed crooked paths through wooded hills, wandered among shivering naked trees, witnessed an eighteen-wheeler caravan. Modern day highwaymen, teeming truckers perhaps pretending to be a circus parade as they formed their own cabaret on an asphalt dance floor, far beneath a curious cabin window. Mystifying multi-colored lit processions are designed to intrigue any viewer with countless roving stories imagined. The traveling night riders and writers, bidding hearty "farewells" and "good-nights", disappeared beyond the hazy dark horizon. In the silent wake of late country road traffic, now absent from a sleepy Ozark village, could barely be heard outside the window; nocturnal families of wooded creatures and winter forest fairies merrily celebrated their wee hour communion. On the heels and wheels of the night's parade, sprites in Nature's own storybook, continued the ballad of mystique into dawn. The night's notion of a mysterious gypsy caravan became woven into a tapestry of dance and song; a lovely literature in tune. Sparkly dewy lights set a stage of different characters who were performing soft symphonies, humming hues, and engaging freelance frolic. Today, by the early peek of peach-light, and through stands of lofty skinny trees, a rippling ribbon of new headlights bounce a crystal shine onto a frosty morning window. Like the Native lore of sun-dogs, these crystal circles appear brightening the sky; muses intending a route toward hopeful endeavors and pursuits of magical possibilities. line count 65 |