As the wind
Blows sweetly to the
Crescent moon, the
Dandelions,
Entranced sway.
Forever hold the dark
Gold that is
Hailed
In the night, not day.
Just in its cause
King of peace
Lambs may sleep, but
Many other things are astir
Not to be detected. Night is
Open to the world, but we are too
Preoccupied by blinding light, we
Question the night.
Restricting trust to something
So secure is such a shame
The night is glorious
Under the moon, wolves
Vying for the moon's sweet light,
Where peace is held.
And this peace spreads across the earth like soft
Butter on dry bread,
Cooling the air, making the land smooth and soft
Delight in the night. It's
Everywhere.