moths with wings a hundred feet across beat against me, the darkness is alive with the screaming and howling of unnamed beasts, and i am braced against the slaughtering waves of everything not this, invincible in my bliss.
my family sleeps quietly around me, my new son on my chest, as a billion stars are born out of the afterbirth of the evening. coyotes in the mountains and stars falling around me; a satellite tracks across the nearly midnight sky, streaking toward a destiny programmed.
i am subsumed by the perfection of the night, the air, the sound of his breathing, the fullness of my heart, and the sparkling fantastic promise of the heavens echoed by myriad fireflies in the summer night.
the elemental construction of my being, as many years ago as there are points of light in the sky, is a gift of absolute wonder, and that i can know this moment, and live through and beyond it, is a monumental tragedy, a momentous, incalculable, uncountable, weightless moment of my life from which i shall never be separated, never forget, never be lost without.
howl you demons, you angels, you beasts; howl.