think i heard a night jar

up the valley here.

it was a quiet night except

for that.

we have the window open now.

Beneath cold bricks and cement lies my heart
Not easily chiseled away
I spent long hiding and raising my guard
Often times it’s newly paved

If I count on my hand each one in my heart
Few fingers would be lifted
Gaining my trust is a task that’s quite hard  
I’m too scarred to show and gift it

surrounded by the vastness of stars.
the mare silhouetted on a hilltop wishing,
waiting, she prays,

"O, nightingale
sweetly sing your solemn song.
send white butterflies adrift on moonbeams,
so he feels my longing in the night.

his wings carved from distant dreams
Pegasus drifts through silver mists
into the moonlit meadow,
but dawns golden fingers
drift across the field
and the winged horse must flee...


...Pegasus weeps from distant stars
to his love waiting on the hill

and her whisper drifts to the heavens

a hush held still in the lullaby of all distant hearts.