Night Walker

The day is dying; westward sinks the orange, bleeding Sun. The clouds grow violet and pink. The night has just begun. A thousand thousand stars above are scattered through the sky. A fall of diamonds, bright as love; neither for such as I. The world now fades to black and gray and deepest indigo. The path before me winds away; it leads where I must go. Across the fields an orange blaze: a shining, earthbound star. Within my reach, before my gaze; beyond my grasp; too far. It speaks of fire, warmth and cheer; of comfort, shelter, home. A dream, a mist, both hope and fear for one who's doomed to roam. I think of all I've left behind; the path I tread tonight through shadow-shapes that shroud and blind and lead me far from light. Beyond the fields I hear a sound: a distant whip-poor-will. I lift my staff up off the ground and climb another hill. The fire fades into the night and almost out of mind. The tiny stars are piercing bright; the cool night-breeze is kind. My choices, made, can't be undone; my life will be my own. I walk beneath both Moon and Sun in shadow and alone.