the final cry of raven through the gloom,
pale threads of cloud spun off the sunset loom,
two gold-eyed cats, stealth-stalking mysteries,
the dome of stars that whirls beyond the trees,
scent of red rhododendron's furling bloom,
aurora borealis' pearly plume -
these tokens of the dark that should appease
the hollowness that haunts my solitude
instead are mirrors of the heart's abyss
that yawns between my pleasure and my fear.
My soul an ember and an interlude,
the night and I together wait for this:
the moon of Love that rises when you're near.