There's a prairie waiting for you tonight. A stretch of grass with a stitch of magic grows slowly where its grown for years. It grows slowly and its patience will still you. Wind round on the country highway, traverse the bridge so many mothers curse on the curve that killed their sons, summit the gentle edge that seeps into farmland and open space and you're almost there.
Turn into yourself and ready the cavern that takes your treasures. You'll fill it tonight and you'll be tempted toward tears, let 'em come. That's fine. Ease over the street, bend 'round to find the ratty stone wall. Park there, 'cause the prairie's waiting for you. You'll find young love hide-and-seeking in the trees that line the road and the shadows on the pavement aren't as lethal as they look.
Muffle your gasp. Stifle your scream. No never mind, don't do those things at all. The doorway to the prairie will hang wide open, its lentel hung from Orion's bow, its posts a pair of pines. The place lives. It'll talk you out of your clothes and hang dreams before you that you've never told a soul. It'll find its way in but go ahead and fight it. Its the only way to learn.
It'll sit you down and it'll ask for silence. Then it'll ask for screams. It'll ask that you throw your arms upward and ask your questions. You, alive and intelligent, forge and groom your questions everyday. You constantly take up the burden of imagination. You look to the stars for friendship and you listen to the forest for advice and so the prairie waits. The prairie will show you. Just wait longer.
Lie back on the trail. See how the ground hurts and you like it. Put your eyes at the level of the milkweed and swing your arms slowly through the reeds. The prairie offers prohibited infinity. Count the weeds, the grass, the fires in the sky. Really try. But not on your fingers. No, don't waste your time with digits, number them. Take note of their ample life, afterall they've waited for you.
Now look, look! Up, above the grass and milkweed and switch. Here comes the magic. You've tossed your treasures to the side, good. The sky beckons now. A pitch black night led you to the prairie. Clouds fortified your ceiling. You know its true. And now they're gone. They made room for you. All of infinity aloft is making room for you. I told you the prairie was waiting.
Do you see this? Imagine for a moment what this means. Look to the edges! look where the clouds are waiting! They've stacked themselves above the trees, encircled the prairie, they've come on pilgrimage! What have we beholden my friend? Now, this is most important. Stare into that, into that center black, into the pure clear night that hovers over this blue little planet. The prairie looks! The prairie looks to that clear black space but what does it see?! You see, the prairie knows. Years and years I've strolled the shadowed path that brought you here, the one where lovers lose their whispers to the trees. But I still don't know, can't know, what the prairie knows. It is not the destination, you see, it is the muse, the lure. It is the mitigating message.
But for what?! For what, I'll whisper, for what? You have seen magic not meant for human eyes, a reality uncontainable. Forever you remain untamed, forever the prairie calls you back and waits. Because forever the prairie longs too! Forever it wants to share, to enlighten and elucidate. It's secret is a burden, its knowing is heavy. But one more thing, just one more before you sleep in the grass and dark wur of the wind. Imagine what show the prairie plays audience for. Do you dare subject yourself to such grandeur, allow such awe to seize your small self? I say yes! I say of course, I say only fools would say no.
And so sit long with me now. Sit or prance or sprint through this space and remember to return to it, the prairie still calls you. What show might we glance if we visit often?