Deep Sand

Deep Sand

The light of the moon
appears in the sand
of the deep desert during
the night. Even the
horses sleep in its shade.
Even water hiding in barrels
for the wash of sheep skin
or butchered cattle
covers itself from a light
that brightens darkness,
never making darkness
complete, total, or at rest. 
In the morning there
is sun but little talk of
the moon. What happens
during the night? Why can't
we sleep? What is outside
hovering next to our
effort to fall asleep in the
sand, rocks, and dry scrub?
I can't say the moon is not
a wild horse. His breath visits
you for a slight moment in
the night, and the night, the
night is not the sun's death,
it is the patient pleading of
one star which awakens horses
in the North in dry Argentina.

Ring of Truth

Roger Scruton's Ring of Truth can be read in place of just about anything. I would implore Moraline and Chrome to get this on Kindle and read it. Its subject matter is so relevant to Moraline's struggle with his gods that it was almost written *in response*.Chrome will liken the work to goodtimecognac. I cannot speak more highly of the work.