There was midnight and it brimmed over in dark solitude
as the river flowed to laugh with me.
Its babbling, raging, thundering heart
suffocates and sustains the rebel in me.

A pale though wanton night, dark as it had seemed,
eyelids torn from their roots to stare at this midnight peace–
a perfect union of a sky and mountain,
of snow and moon, of white on deep gray-blue steely hue.

The dark solitude laps around my head, my heart;
I sink into the feeling of shame that cold nights had once blown apart.
What is the universal law that takes away those shattered dreams
that teach one to prepare for those empty
yearning years we dread?

I don’t give in to the laugh, the pale sky.
These unsatisified eyelids close in defiance of the beauty
they had previously let in.
It’s all the pale sky
and river beneath this perfect night can threaten.

There is no truth larger than that from which I hide.
There is no message more meaningful than that given by this night.
I bend beneath a star flecked dream and touch the earth again.
My pain and hollow breath flicker in the night’s seductive gaze.

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