One late summer evening,
under the criss-cross canopy of fern green branches,
we were celebrating nothing and everything.
A soft, lovely night for being alive.
A night for singing, so we sang.
Soon, the crickets and toads joined in with their chirruping chorus.
Great love within us, reckless and wild.
A daring grew, inherited from the moon.
Taking in all the light.
Eternity was made for the stars,
yet, tonight was made for us.