He Is the Night
He winks as the moon winks.
His eyes twinkle as the stars
sink low just for him.
They are drawn in fascination
to his unique charms
(as in a magical sky, am I ).
He is one with night, he is.
He is the thrill of new beginnings
and the trusted intimacy of time.
Masks worn in hours of day,
at dusk, slip away.
Our connection grows
in starry night glow.
Like the brightest constellations,
we fly, oh, how we fly!
Complete am I in his eyes.
We are one, one in our dreams.
We are weightless and free.
The Big Dipper scoops us up
into an infinite sky of brilliance.
On our quest to reach Polaris,
he is my guiding light.
I am complete, I am greater
than my past and its disguise.
I am greater in his tender sight.
We are greater as one in our flight.
All the rows of houses below us,
silent in their sleep, awaken
to our ecstatic cries of passion.
We are shooting stars.
In the wink of the moon,
who knows its dependence
on the light of a distant sun,
I know my flame will die,
without his inner light.
We are one, one love tonight.
Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2015
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