Somewhere out there is a planet where the sun sets in the East

and during bright day light, the inhabitants sleep.

For them, the dark of night is the right time for living.

When all the sharp shades of glaring yellows, reds and orange

our earth bound artists use,

are gone.

But the soft spectrum of grays,

the rainbow of muted blues,

the darkening hues of purples

and the broad reach of evening shadows waning toward darkness,

these, are their painters pallet.

Where a total lunar eclipse of the sun at its zenith

is the ultimate moment for worship and awe

for there, the Moon is God of gods.

And when lover senses their lover coming in the darkness,

it is by her soft breaths sigh,

the quiet tread of his steps,

the rose scent of her skin,

the warm touch of his fingers,

the taste of her lips on his,

(Apple Blossom).

These confections are more than enough for them to know.

THIS place is home for their soul.

Where they walk the shore, hand touching hand,

early at mid-night.

The moon rises to the sounds of a whispering, windy sea,

rippling, bubbling,

over wave washed sand.

Yes, My Darling,

I would love to be,

There,

with Thee.