Changling

The sun's last rays spear the prevailing night
and a cool breeze chases the fleeting light.
Yellow, orange and red clouds
fluidly morph into purple and blue.
Then, when a starry dome blankets the forest
and deep-rooted trees are limned by the moon,
I glide silently upwards;
passing through leaves and branches
which close silently behind my passing.
From above the canopy, I see can insects
encircling whispering streetlights,
and the bats who eagerly purse them.
I coast, pushed by the night breeze,
and gaze at the cold, remote stars.
Wanting nothing more than to meet
another like myself.