 It disappears and then quite soon, I glimpse again the magic moon. No matter where I ride or stray, it will peep out along the way. Out in space, yet ever near, always set to reappear, moving like a silver kite in harvest sky or winter night. It rides along the mountain trails, a guiding light that never fails. It casts a kind of ribbon light upon the sea with pure delight. Part of summer’s tender scenes and songs of moon-inspired dreams. Playing peek-a-boo with trees, you catch a glimpse, and then it leaves, navigating far away just when you thought that it would stay.  |
