She felt the call of vast again, for the quiet open wilds where heart and spirit were most home; full moon in cloudless night that shone as silver day, stars through the deep-violet in arc and strewn of Milky Way from high to horizon-meet.
She dreamt the view from porch-rest seat; light’s glow of the hearth and fire within, amber and darker orange, in appear through window’s view outside looking in; winter quiet when the cold sets still warmer seasons’ sounds, lone howl of a coyote or yipping burst of den in wake for night—hunt beneath the bright, full moon—sound of wings and geese in pass through night above; to hold his hand and sense his peace, his heartbeat’s match to hers—pulse-feel faint through palm-to-palm; resting, seeing: immersed, amongst, One-within, at home in vast again.