the Canyon

First I saw the moon low on the horizon, highlighting the few slivers of cloud in brilliant neon purple.  There are silhouettes of juniper trees and rocks before me.  The air is cool and damp, and I can hear water rushing somewhere unseen.  Making out the terrain becomes hard, so I stare at the stars.  Suddenly, I'm watching them all fall towards the horizon opposite the moon.  It is as if the Earth rotated so fast to show the other half of the skies, which was without any star including the Sun, hollowing the sky.  I watched the stars fall but to my surprise they did not disappear, they fell between the silhouettes of trees and rocks, collecting in pairs. I heard the rushing sound of water turn into the rushing sound of beating wings, like when you spook a flock of pigeons in the park. I watched the pairs of stars move like silver specks of eyes, still twinkling like they do, and I felt intimidated. I closed my eyes, winced in pain as the thousands of feathers beat the air into a flurry of wind and wet dirt.  It was deafening, and I felt paralysis set into my core and tickling numbness in my extremities.  The source of that sound had crept from countless wings into my head, each beat of my heart louder and more sickening, and blackness as the canyon faded from around me.  Then, with a sudden hush, everything stopped and I woke up, and after the adrenaline left my body, I felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness for the few moments before I fell back to sleep.