The Sun Also Answers

In those small intimate hours

When night drips into day

I cloak myself in the cold death

Of a star

To tread in the light and shadow

Of an intimate truth

When the personal becomes

The becomes universal

We all must walk through

Our dark nights of the soul

I cling to this cliché

Like a lantern to brighten

The path ahead

I come upon

A pool of water

As still and calm

As an arcane mirror

The moon is reflected

Of its surface

It is as full

As a blood vessel

Threatening to break

To succumb to stress

And spill its light

Upon my frame

Its cratered face

Presses against my cheek

To whisper in my ear

Its breath smells like

The death and decay

Of every creature

That did not survive

The first impact

And it asks of me

What I am afraid to give:

First Impact

First Whisper

Look Within

Pale moonlight drapes itself across my knee

Please don't make me.

I don't think I'm ready yet.

Second Impact

Second Whisper

Look Within

Pale moonlight presses itself against my belly

Please stop.

I can't do this yet.

Third Impact

Third Whisper

Look Within

Pale moonlight pushes into my eyelids.

There are no words.

There are some things we share

by not talking about them.

In that final whisper

I feel the moon drowned out

By the rising sun

Ushering in a new day.

I thank him for what he's done.

He responds from atop his skyline throne

There is nothing to thank me for

I am only doing what I know to do.

And he continues his path

Along the bruised sky.

“I am only doing what I know to do”

I think I may have learned something.

I think I might have found my truth.