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Spirit of Midnight by Lelia Thomas

Sister Moon moves the tides,
Her colorless glow a gentle strength,
Sending waves to crash upon Father Mountain’s sides,
Soothing his cracked and craggy skin of stone.

Brother Wind drives through the trees,
His haunting voice whispering secrets at night.
The willows and oak come alive with his breeze,
Dancing and swirling, shaking and twirling.

And Mother Earth sleeps beneath our feet,
Her body still and quiet,
Her soul a constant, tribal beat.
This is the spirit of midnight.

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I wrote this in 2004 in honor of nature and some of its vital roles. As humans now, we are so influenced by technology that we sometimes laud our own abilities, forgetting how intricate and perfectly-planned nature is.