We sit under the surreal night sky
Tracing stars with our eyes and letting our minds wander the cosmos
Earth cools the bare skin of our backs with its dry
Soft sand; it rises and sinks with each push of our toes.

The wind blows grains across our naked bodies
Tickling the first sense
Sending waves of life through us like armies
Of crows that make the air shake with fear so immense.

Hand in hand we rise
Dancing to the music of night and our own peace
Our own sacred desire to live and never meet demise
Death is nonexistent in this place.

The black bird will sing
Will tell us we cannot be here, we must leave
But we dance and our music will ring
Louder than the call of the bird of the eve.

The end cannot touch us here.

This poem was written/submitted by Katelyn Page.