where’ve you been?
The rising moon has hid the stars;
Her level rays,
like golden bars,
Lie on the landscape green,
With shadows brown between.
And silver white the river gleams,
As if Diana, in her dreams,
Had dropt her silver bow
Upon the meadows low.
On such a tranquil night as this,
She woke Endymion with a kiss,
When, sleeping in the grove,
He dreamed not of her love.
Like Dian’s kiss,
unasked, unsought,
Love gives itself, but is not bought;
Her voice, nor sound betrays
Its deep, impassioned gaze.
It comes,
—the beautiful, the free,
The crown of all humanity,—
In silence and alone
To seek the elected one.
It lifts the boughs,
whose shadows deep,
Are Life’s oblivion, the soul’s sleep,
And kisses the closed eyes
Of him, who slumbering lies.
O, weary hearts! O, slumbering eyes!
O, drooping souls, whose destinies
Are fraught with fear and pain,
Ye shall be loved again!
No one is so accursed by fate,
No one so utterly desolate,
But some heart, though unknown,
Responds unto his own.
Responds,
—as if with unseen wings,
A breath from heaven had touched its strings
And whispers, in its song,
“Where hast though stayed so long!”
😍
– Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I’ll always want to drive with you.
I’ll always want to trace
all the corners of the world
with my own bare hands.
We’ll whirl by the exits like flight.
Like wind.
Two birds collecting stories.
Breaking all cages.
Chasing our whims.
Maybe we could leave tonight
without falling far behind
we’ll shed our pain and armor
and be in this music,
these dreams,
these roads.
Yours and mine.
We’ll find the center
of everything
and we will ride.
We’ll just drive.
🚘
by Victoria Erickson, Writer



