The Work of Sun and Moon

I stand between the dawn and the dusk

as the moon stands midst dark and bright

sweet light borrowed from her consort Sun,

and as I wain, darker creatures ever emerge

In the sleep of those anxious and despairing

as if the lights of heaven are disappearing:

dark in that night are those lost sorry souls;

but as I turn face to reflect his light in full,

those cruel fears dissolve each in their turn

giving song to those bright and starry souls.

Yin Yang

how do I write songs when the language I speak
has no relation to the world they see?

I have wandered way too far from what is known;
to be closer to you alone, my dearest love;

where unnamed creatures roam between the stars
I’ve kissed lights we believe to see from afar

where aspects of my skin have no fixed substance
to keep me by agony separate from you.

no. here, our bodies simply fold into each other
twisting round as yin together into yang forever;

how can I write a love that belongs to forever
with a language that flows into rivers run barren?

magic is not something we can ever truly realize
unless we want its wonder to meet a stale demise

for there is no mind that can follow where we go
where love is sunlight and the moon is our home;

making love to give birth to the fire of the stars,
the hope of the world, the lights who seem afar.