What price?

What price is paid

by the dreamers who gaze

on the midnight sky in love

with the universe?

Through dreams below a moon

who laughs in white silence

peering through to catch in slumber

the mind lost in other worlds,

does it know of our visions?

What price is paid by the hopeful heart

who wishes as a star falls on a calm night,

the glittering spark that shoots past much too fast

yet caught in the memory with a smile?

I know of no value worth pennies or millions

that compare with the view of a night sky,

below in a forest or beside the gentle waves

inspiration shimmers like a belief in more,

like the truth that we are one with it all.

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