Midnight, Moonlight

Midnight, Moonlight, Speak to my heart of those secrets that we all keep, Midnight, Like a little black box, Holding information from the day, Moonlight, Like a detective of fox, shines its light like a beacon on a bay, Speak to my heart, What does midnight bring? The final conclusion or the promise of the day, Our hopes, Our dreams, Our thoughts to bury, Or the ushering of dawn, To those secrets that we keep, Shall we whisper to those who have forgotten? Or shall we let them touch the magic in itself, Share those thoughts that some find unappreciated or untangle those mysteries unsolved? For in those close observations they tell more than what some see, But you have to learn to listen to those shadows that somehow reveal themselves, Through midnight whispers few shall hear the mingling of wonders forgotten for years, We must embrace the beauty and know it as truth, Tis not a mystery but our forgotten ancient roots, Whisper through the moonbeams on the ray of light, To those who think life is a riddle with no purpose of right, Observe their reactions you'll know if they hear, And if they do not, Turn... to another's ear, Just observe us... Do you know if I hear? How can you tell that my perceptions are clear? What is it with us from miles apart to be able to share verse like oneness of heart? May 18, 2000 Written January 23rd, 2002 © on Jan 23 2002 08:36 AM PST, Billy E. Whitehorn    other