I am a night-lover, a moon-chaser, a star-gazer, an aurora-guzzler … Yep, I am one spacey cadet.
And I do not get out under a naked sky on a lunedark night nearly often enough.
Lunedark? Is that not a word? I beg to differ.
My friend Sam Knutson recently recommended a book to me called Language Makes Nature by David Lukas. It is about creating new words to describe things that there aren’t any existing words for. I mean, how many times have you said, or has someone said to you, “I just don’t even know how to explain what I am feeling right now?” Right? Yes! Like, there’s no way to count how many times because there are giant Swiss cheese holes in the English language where words about emotions, nature, relationships, and creativity really ought to be – but our rationalist forefathers were the ones making the dictionaries, and welp. Sorry, lovely emotional words, you were surplus to requirement for those rich white old motherfuckers.
Lukas’ book offers oodles of chewy suggestions and resources for filling in those gaping holes. I read like 20 pages and wrote this song. Thanks, Sam!
Lunedark Out here in the warm and loving dark I rest on this hill at-One Around me not a single spark to banish these tiny suns The Milky Way swirls above me a writhing, living beast Constellations I never even dreamed to see before me a sensual feast And I could fall into this lunedark sky My starburnt cheeks and my midnight-eyes Every star’s a lucky star tonight The twilight chorus has ended their wild ovation done The night players make their subtle entrance singing their dark and restless song But still the stars shine their hearts out through billions of miles of time Surely this is the heaven I’ve heard about luscious and strange and mine A psithur in the trees, the smell of petrichor the weight of the world against my spine the gentle sussuration of a waterfall the molasses-sticky trickle of time My midnight-eyes are slowly closing in blessed blissful sleep I trust the loving land to softly hold me forever my soul to keep