You and I exist,
as the cool comes creeping,
and we allow it to creep.
The race to dusk is about to begin.
Your breath dances in front of your mouth
and hangs like a veil in your air.
The mountain looms for us to climb
and our goal awaits us in concealment.
There is no road to be long nor hard,
but my feet find no grace
and I clamber without poise,
making you giggle as you alight most elegantly.
Exhausted from the uphill scramble,
It is time for the true meaning:
To find the tree
That will reveal the end of the light.
Through the forest we charge,
every oak showing potential,
but none of them holding the key.
Our time is fading faster than the warmth.
Finally we've found it,
standing no taller than the rest.
It's age is not apparent,
but it's wisdom is all encompassing.
I start to ascend,
calling you to follow.
You stay on the ground
to watch me disappear into the rustling foliage.
I do not notice your absence.
I watch the great ball of brilliance
Sink into the solemn ground.
The black earth swallowed the mighty fire.
I leap from my perch
prepared to scold you for missing the spectacle.
But the stars are so magnificent;
they dance and spin like a child's bed-time fantasy.