untold

the stillness of the world under a full moon,

the gentle rustling of the grass,

the coolness of the flat plains,

the vast sea of joy spread out,

relaxed.

the twinkling of the stars,

a gleaming array of secrets,

the stories of old,

forgotten,

untold,

revealed on a dark canvas of wonder.

the lightlessness of midnight,

hides the roses and flowers of twilight,

a blissful scent,

a dazzling joy to the wonders of the night.

by the light of day,

the fruits of a ripe orchard,

oranges and apples,

pears and peaches,

perfume the thick air,

creating an intoxicating trap.

oh, summer,

when you call,

the nights are warm,

the sheep are shorn,

and at dusk the world is pleasantly informed,

of the joy found in your way.

when night falls on the summer day,

the ancient fey,

guide the way,

to their dancing halls of glory.

under the mound,

dancing to sound with the mischief-makers.

upon the breaking of day,

all are led away,

with no memory of the meeting,

on the plains.

one could say joy is finally found,

in the ancient lands,

in the summer time,

with the Fate’s stories.

woven from each life and breath,

to journey along the way.

those who strive to spread the light,

are giving joy away.

what is the secret to mirth?

that is the unknown.

but those who’ve lived,

and those who’ve learned,

will say,

“it is in the simplest actions,”

“a hug,”

“a smile,”

“a kind word.”

a simple twofold action,

of giving and receiving joy.