Night Music

Crickets chirp,
mosquitoes buzz,
bullfrogs croak in the distance.
Footsteps sound--
The crunch of grass
The rustle of leaves.

I stride over the shaded green,
silent,
gliding across the meadow.
Shadows conceal my face
from the full moon,
but I have nothing to hide.
I come,
my soul laid bare
under the night sky,
beneath the stars' unbiased judgment.

I raise my arm and beckon
The crickets cease their cacophony.
And when I lower it
their sound begins anew.

I let the night music flow around me
Let my nocturne drift up to the sky.
I direct my song upwards, set it free,
Hold it up so it can fly.

Violins and cellos
sound through the night breeze,
a steady, chirping ostinato.
Beautiful, ornate,
exquisite, resplendent
Colors of melody flow and ebb
like the ocean tide.

A percussive buzz cuts through the night
A splash of sunlight
on the moonwashed leaves.
A flare of sound
Bold fanfares thunder--
Boom!

The wind ruffles my hair
and the moon illuminates my eyes.
They shine hazel
with the spark of life
and then they hide again.

I reach over and grab my baton,
its rough bark slick with the night dew.
Its tip sways to the beat
Fluid,
with expression
that human words do not know.

I let the night music flow around me
Let my nocturne drift up to the sky.
I direct my song upwards, set it free,
Hold it up so it can fly.

I let the music take me
I let it carry me forwards,
let it pull me to new worlds.
Strange worlds, different worlds
Odd, yet familiar.

I sing my soul under blue skies
Under alien suns,
up into the night.
I dance through a field of colors,
Wave my arms,
waltz with the one I love
My true and only love.

We embrace.

I live on majestic seas
in ferocious jungles
in romance
in tragedy.
I live happily ever after
time and time again
as the beat washes over me
as the rhythms dance down my spine.

I let the night music flow around me
Let my nocturne play up to the sky.
I hardly recognize the sights I see
All is new again,
refreshed in my mind's eye.

. . .

Crickets chirp,
mosquitoes buzz,
bullfrogs croak in the distance.
Footsteps sound,
my footsteps--
The crunch of grass,
The rustle of leaves
fades away to a slow fine.

And then I bow
to my audience of leaves and trees
Of still ponds and peaceful lilies.
I drop the twig I've been holding all this time,
let it land on the grass without a second thought,
without a sound.
My hair conceals my face
from my judge
and my critics,
the moon and the stars.
A lone firefly lights its lantern in the distance.
All is still.
All is quiet.

Then, without a word,
without verbal command or cue,
my orchestra
plays its night music around me.