Because i stayed up way longer than expected perfecting it...

[postmodernsmile]

"Movement: Night Ballet"

Even on the quietest of nights...
without a wind as if the sea had died,
the clouds left still and sound asleep like sheep in a silent pasture's keep:

Trees bow, pious, to the ground,
their vines unwrap and reach for me,
the grasses shiver, sway, and dance,
and night-shut flowers' petals peek.

(It seems my friends all feigned their sleep)

Down, stars drop, into my backyard
where i gather up the tiny dots
and place them all upon my tongue
where tastelessly they do dissolve
to finely tune my many strings
as i compose my symphony.

Tonight, the movement is a great ballet:

Following the solo and exeunt of light,
       the trees lie down along the ground,
       and glorious, unseen creatures come
       who, lithe and light and with radiant beauty,
       dawn and dance with maenads
       all drunk on honeysuckle-wine
       that wades in the air alongside notes
       who, now at their own pace, flit and flurry
       not hurried by unwanted winds,
       but wild - as they're meant to be:
       untroubled, true, free, and serene.

And likewise my ballet is seen
       in the silent, windless abscence of all light:
       perfect night.