Your luminous light grazes fragile trees.
A precious light, so pure; one of a kind.
Across my knees I feel the gentle breeze,
Just like all the thoughts flowing in my mind.
I love the moons white, sincere, silent shine.
Instilled with innocence, the field is dark.
Throughout the air lies a strong smell of pine.
The next moment, in the breeze drifts a lark.
Suddenly, starting decent towards the park,
A sharp, tense feeling of danger arrived.
There seems to be something the lark has marked.
In the shadows, someone love deprived.
I reach out my hand so she's not alone.
Guide her; she will soon make it on her own.