Animals of the night, in fur or feather barely warm, live with stars in constant sight and swim in silver light. Humans of the swarm rarely wander in the dark, until within some mountain park they meet primeval charm: Beauty infinite and stark; beginning and the end of time; all mass and energy in rhyme; invitation to embark. Lying gazing, flying, blazing. Up is down and night is day. See the Earth behind you turning. Throw your little self away. Peter Bird (2008)
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