Day dawns purple in your hair
Deep burgandy turns to red
Skies open like a flower
Trying to recall the whispers of night
A dream passing through
Never learning all your moods
A lifetime would keep one guessing
But in the magic of night . . .
A thin ribbon of asphalt
Passed between these monoliths
Reflecting back the moon
Shades and tints and colors the moment
Stars tracing outlines
Immaterial and faded
Silence sitting on sun warmed stones
Sleeping sacred ground
Peeks past wonders
To watch the dream unfold.
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