Alis volat propriis ~ Robert Penn Warren

…Beyond the lattice of dusk-dripping leaves, whiteness dimly glimmers, goes. Glimmers and is gone, and the man, suspended in his darkling medium, stares upward where, though not visible, he knows she moves, and in his heart he cries out that, if only he had such strength, he would put his hand forth and maintain it over her to guard… In his heart he cries out. Above height of the spruce-night and heave of the far mountain, he sees the first star pulse into being. It gleams there. I do not know what promise it makes him…
~
Robert Penn Warren