The moon has a song only some can hear.
Like a dogwhistle it's tuned just for these ears, and it wakens and beckons the sleepless to come, up and out in the night, as if it were sun.
Leaving the snoring and slumbering behind, up and out in the night,
are the wandering kind.
Like secrets untold they pass by unnoticed, in no hurry or rush and with not thought
or purpose.
Drawn by the beauty of the moon's silent song, drawn by the stillness in the empty and calm.
Up and out in the night for a long, late stroll, is foreplay for dreaming
for this sleepless soul.
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