A glimmer of light burning in the wilderness
Occasionally comes ’round to give rest
Lingering about camps like an old Indian story,
Those tales of ancient warriors
Who in nature always found
Great wonder and captivating glory.
No dark can break it
No storm blow it away
Like a friendly old dog from neighboring tribes,
It visits with smiles of joy
Glowing in the attention
In which it abides.
It eases the wild fears
Of presumed dark, prowling grizzly bears;
And softly lulls to sleep
Those whose company it does keep.
It speaks so gentle and delicate
With a voice that
No one, for certain, knows,
It softens the soul
Of all who will listen…
And then, just before sun up, quietly it goes.
What it is, I cannot say
How often I’ve encountered it
I dare not speak,
For it is a primeval color within the wind
Only unveiling it’s mystery to those deep and modest souls…
Who humbly desire to take a peak.
It is ever out there
Riding upon the moonlight,
Looking for a lone, and lonely hiker
Who gazes thoughtfully into the campfire…
Of any solitary wilderness night.
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