Beneath the celestial orbit of silver, the sophistry of hooves
echoes in the translucence between dusk and dawn,
where only whispers remain of lantern-lit wanderers.
Do you hear the rustle before the ageless veneer,
a horse neath a starry sheet, galloping memories?
There is a landscape in our dreams,
mapped ethereal under watchful trails
where early starlight mingles with fading echo.
Soft amber pours from a caress of leaves, quivering.
Do we visit constellations with the press of hooves,
serpentine roads unfurl beneath jaded silver night?
Our greatest voyage lines only canvases,
within saffron shafts signifying departure,
interdicted union neath the eternally fluent tide.