The moon clings dangerously
To the rugged edges of oblivion
Drenched in the sleepy sweat
Of tomorrows promised rain
Cassiopeia sits lazily in her lofty perch
Her billowy skirts tumbling down
To blow the hair from your brow

The Earth spins its ancient pirouette
And time rolls its heavy weight
Along the forever-road to eternity

Where are you Megan, in this stoic moment?
What beautiful thought
Tilts your head ever-so-slightly?

Somewhere in the silent song of the universe
There is a chord not yet heard
A sound so painfully plaintive
No human ear has been built to behold

That is where you are
Snagged on the pitch of the most perfect note
You tilt your head for a better view
Of your thoughts drinking tea with the stars