Bring this back, the joyous pomp -
I recollect the embryonic happenstance,
Or circumstances, 'round the spark from
Whence we drove our flame.
It was a river, no, a snow-melt stream
Rather, atop a craggy summit, in cascade,
Aggregating to a dream. Time, of course,
Is relative, but the canyons carved are
Just the same. These I've confided in the moon
Alone at twilight. Her silence, reassuring, and
Her presence eternal; recurring. She's listening.

Kelly Vinal

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dreams-in-argon/