The crowds did draw ephemeral,
through windows of the night,
in shuddered, shining sanctity
where reason did take flight.
As wings of feathered dreaming,
were spread through distant skies,
so blossoms black and brilliant
did fall in dance, entwined.
Lost voices rose in dormant echo,
murmuring through the leaves,
of trees in silvered trunk and twig;
where fairies laughed and teased.
Angels gathered shimmer close,
eyes brimmed with joy’s delight,
and green clouds scudded silently;
new moon rose to great heights.