The nightingale sings
of springtide
under the pink moon.

Mountains speak,
the sun settles—
a pale evening primrose.

Angel’s trumpet,
jasmine and moonflowers
light my way.

Barred owls glide
and lunar moths float
to a nocturne.

God created the glow
and the melody
in the night garden.

Ask the animals,
the birds, and the earth—
they will teach you.