high atop bald rock mountain
where the air is cool
where the vista is vast but unseen
except by wide-eye owls
who know how to keep a secret
where the night is silent
where the sky is clear and dark
except for a silvery moon
except for the twinkling stars
high atop that mountain
in that precious private place
there comes a time
just after midnight
when mountaintop trees come to life
slowly at first they move
as though blown by a wind
the nearby weeds do not feel
their rigid forms loosen up
they sway in the moonlight
to and fro
their limbs grow limber
their trunks
once stiff
grow more supple as they move
nature's unseen magic
celebrates its freedom
and the trees on that mountaintop
begin to dance
a secret dance of joy
a secret dance of nature's pleasured celebration
a dance that only nature knows
a dance they dance til dawn