It's time for our walk in the woods,

Away from the hubbub of the day,

We hide and we pray,

The evergreen scent hones our deadened senses,

As we move to feel that before, we could not even touch.

 

And in a starry, cloudless sky,

The moon dusts the dewy boughs of the trees,

Shining through every drop with ease,

Shining down the shimmering spotlights that we shared,

As the hours played quickly by.

 

It's been put succinctly,

By so many of the masters of diction,

That life is often stranger than fiction,

Our faith lost in nature,

Has been put into machinery.

 

On this we pondered,

But did not dwell,

For it was surely too blatant to tell,

Where the most joy's to be had,

In spite of the taboo which our society's conjured.

 

In the midst of the night,

Cradled in the hammock of the present stars,

Locked sweetly in each other's arms,

We turn and nod our reconsecrated heads,

knowing everything will be alright.