The Moon-Language
The moon hung high, a silent light, Over valleys, winding creeks, and starry night, A language spoken by all that lives, A symphony sent from the earth, it gives.
Each whisper of wind calls for notice, Each rustle of leaves speaks a soft promise, Nature unfolds in celestial song, Echoing the notes where we all belong.
Under this dome, feel the heartbeats blend, The wild’s true language around every bend, For those who listen can always find, The moon’s sweet incantations calm and kind.
- Jack London