He pulsed with rapturous authority that night.

Drunk on wind and moonshine.

Even the trees yielded to his laugh

Raucous and full

We all bowed then,

Dirtied our knees

Whooped in gleeful veneration.

To a silhouette brimmed by moonlight.

And lost ourselves to the silver nectar of night.

(I'd love to know what you see when you read this. I know I have a clear vision, everything is up to interpretation, and I often think I'm too vague in my poetry).