On the nights when the moon shines full and the silver light dances on emerald leaves, it’s prudent to be inside a cabin of timbers perched in front of a blazing fire; huddled close among dear ones; safe from all ghostly influence.
For on such nights when the moon shines full and the silver light dances on emerald leaves, the west wind has been known to whisper her secrets to all who will listen. And who can know where such a conversation may lead—perhaps to lands unknown, enchanted or otherwise; perchance to the deck of a frigate steaming across the water wide; or an epic sojourn through forests black.
So on the nights when the moon shines full and a silver light dances on emerald leaves, you who desire safety, make every effort to be inside your cabins of timber; perched in front of your blazing fires; huddled close among those who love you most—unless, of course, it’s another destiny you seek.
And if that is the case, then cast aside all fear, all trepidation, and without hesitation dash off into the night. Tell no one. Leave all your earthly cares behind; abandon all restraint; travel under the light of the moon; breathe deep the night air; feel the exhilaration of the road less traveled; cavort with phantoms; dance madly.
Then on the nights when the moon shines full and the silver light dances on the emerald leaves; when your neighbors are entranced by the flickering firelight tucked away inside their unbreachable fortresses made of timber, you will know what it is to be completely and utterly alive.
Cornfields near Inavale, NE
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