Emergence

Quiet world, now bathed in lunar bliss

gold and loon sing

sun dried cedar crackles as wee ones nestle in

Moon moves closer, closer now and 

dips to welcome you

“Look” says moon “toward east, as mornings overlap

from west four seasons blur

and on toward south hear a twilight song

as we cross red sands of time

“Come snuggle in my crescent curve

we’ll float, float, float.”