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.