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Captivated
Nature's beauty stuns the senses and burns it's very image into your soul.
Almost like the way a flame licks it's firey tongue, across fingers, playing too close to the candle's dancing light.
The night is dark with anticipation for something that has yet to come, but lies in wait.
Alley cats calling out to the Moon, the fact that they are feline is forgotten in all of their enthusiasm.
Shadows play upon cracked side walks, through jagged maple tree branches, and the stars shine their brilliance.
How does Mother Nature captivate the world so entirely, when most of her children sleep?
An ageless question asked throughout time-- and as endless as the veins running through the bark of the maple.
It almost aligns to an acrostic. I see what you mean.