• Softly, I tread on the hem of my dark blue jeans
    as the full moon hangs high and full in the sky overhead.
    The night sings its song of crickets and breezes,
    of rustling leaves and of the unseen.
    Stars gaze in at the shadows and the light
    as I pass beneath half-light boughs and
    awe at the marvel of the night.
    The splendor of this midnight hour bears
    witness to its own beauty.
    And softly, softly I tread.