Review Summary: Good shit.
An album of a night by the campfire, an album of the boat in which the shimmering waters jostle. An album of the warm drought of wine, an album of the returning of color to a deserted face. An album of peasants seeking love, of travelers seeking beauty, of merchants seeking venture. An album of the kind wolf, the one who carries the young it bears with bold prowess. An album of the hearts of mankind, and the beauty they seek, and the world that so nurtures them.
There is a longing for the moment, a longing for purpose. The music stirs the soul, awakens the mind and puts it back to a duller sleep, a dreaming one nonetheless. It is one of the single most perfect albums I have ever heard. It is never-ending passion, but even as I speak, you must take into account that the passion never ended on the way here. CAMEL, to the bold MIRAGE, to the graceful THE SNOW GOOSE, and now to MOONMADNESS, a word that is blasphemy to unwary ears or to the music of the unwise and foolish.
It is like the sounds of water, cold, cold water, the pure. The trees weep with lust for ears, these wavelengths they hear are surely Rivendell amidst the lack of hearing they know so well. The insects tremble among the bush, what is this prose they hear, the prose of sound? But the humans with the ears cry for purpose, for yet they hear the song, these feeble legs surely can't take them longer than the leagues their heart can bear.
It is the time when your hopes are filled, and also your cup. It is the moment when your soul is stirred, also your bowl with stew. It is the moment that more glory is wished, let alone your filled-up dish. It is the pity that pulled the lid down the eyes. It is the anger that spilled the blood for Scotland. It is the love that stilled the sword, among the dark, adrift the fjord.
