Upon a Starry Night

How often in the midnight hours I have risen in the dark,

when no flame was seen, no, not one spark.

In the dark I have walked the winding halls,

one hand upon the walls, out through the portals

and stood upon the gently sloping lawn. 

The sky was bright

with a myriad, myriad, starry lights

upon the overarching vault, and

each reflected in the pool below. 

Zephyr breezes stirred the waters,

the lilies danced, and

dancing upon the broad lily leaves

danced other lights,

not starry lights, but faery lights. 

As I drew near their slender silvan forms

I did perceive though unperceived.

Closer stepped I cautiously

but perceiving me each turned and courteously did bow,

then vanished westward from my sight

leaving naught behind but the tintinnabulation

of their crystal laughter chiming in the air.   

As I stood listening upon the lawn,

the eastern sky began to lighten

and the strong Sun rose mightily to warm the earth. 

The morning air was filled with birdsong;

a thousand, thousand, meadow larks

singing praise to their Creator,

and one old jackdaw croaked his delight;

yet mingled through the birdsong,

chiming faery laughter could be heard.

Imagination is the faculty through which we discover that other world around us. As for those of us sensitive to the bright realm of Faerie, we do not create it, nor did our forbearers create it, we have discovered it and through the gift of the faculty of imagination we have stepped into an ever flowing river where the realm of Faerie touches Middle Earth.