Night

Night and the soul-dark beauty of stars
arching over a field
blown by a wind which chilled me to the depths of my dark soul;
night and the song we spoke to each other
out of our souls was silenced. Night in our hearts,
night in the way we watched each other,
night in the way the blanket covered you and I did not. Night
in the spirit's long fall from grace toward grace, night
in your eyes and in my grimace, night which covered
the spirit's insistent face breathed into us one night
beneath the shadow of great wings.

Night when it began, the warmth of shared breath
the lullaby of an eternal moment, night
when it ended not in tears but in silence

night when we realized life goes on, night after, after night,
after,
wings whose whispers saved us
take us, soul-spinning into the stars
show us some glimmer of a land we cannot see without being destroyed,
a land whose night's beauty sears a scar on our eyes.

In some sense we'll always be holding hands beneath the stars,
wandering a field at night;
in some sense,
in the way that time is not real, we never were.