The Clearing

I walk out into the clearing. It is dark out now, though small flickering flames of swaying lanterns provide pockets of light throughout the meadow. I meander my way through the clumps of people, those lying on the ground, looking up to the heavens, admiring distant worlds. Those who stand, talking and laughing. Telling stories. And then those who make passionate love in the darkness, unashamed of what they are doing.

Finally, I find a nice patch of grass to sit down on, putting me into a circle of five strangers. Yet, we felt like we knew each other--like we were friends.

They welcome me into their group, and we talk about all sorts of things. We talk about ourselves, and what we do. We talk about the stars and the Earth and anything that comes across our minds. The peace pipe is offered, and we all partake in smoking the indica being shared. Soon, our minds are clouded by the tendrils of the cannabis. We find that we cannot stop laughing. We find that we are getting closer and closr to each other, until we are all lying together as one mass. Soon enough, we join the others who were making love in the dark, blowing out the flame of our lantern.