The Dance by Leonard M HawkesIn spite of autumn frost,
We found the warmth--
There on the mountain,
Blanketed in darkness,
Seen only by the half-closed
Eye of the Harvest Moon.
No random finding,
No accidental, unintended
Passing in the night--
But mystic steps
In that stumbling through
The meaning of the Fire. 10/04/2012 Author's Note: For Jeff
Posted on 10/04/2012 Copyright © 2024 Leonard M Hawkes
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