Emerge.

A call into the night
echoes back,
like fading strands of
moss in the water of
my soul.

They waver against the hope that delivers,
enduring.

They waver and
snap
and break off against
the legs of swimmers who

hesitate and then
deny the existence of any doubt,
continue swimming into
the cool dark black
of the deepest water.

Swimmers who ponder the meaning of the heavens
as the stars reflect in the dark water of the pool.

They swim through-
i swim through-
the heavens
and feel the tingle
trust,
stardust from the sky
glittering down onto the water
and enveloping.

I am lost in the belief that
tomorrow is tomorrow
and it will come with the dawn
and the dawn will recall
all that was lost.

The sun will emerge,
victorious,
having slain the nightqueen
moon,
and with her blood
he will paint the sky.
He will burn bright,
'til not one eye remains dry
amongst the stars - sisters, friends -
who mourn her,
and I,
I will bath in the light,
weeping,
knowing that all that was lost is
regained,
by the blood of the moon.