When heaven turns from light to dark
the substance remains the same
but the sense of it changes.

What was just clearly seen
now shadows only hint at
ghostly outlines of mouse giants.

Now the moon with her varied phases
rules the shaded depths
in this time of her dominion.

The petals of the moss rose
curl up in close surrender
bereft of the sun's bright light.

That which was bold
curls up under evergreens
to sleep on a bed of pine needles.

Owls pierce the night sky
derisive of the night-blind masses
as they dive for their just rewards.

All waits for the heavens
to turn back once again
from dark to light.