So melancholy, the night, with its emptiness,
its vast void of quietude, its ending and beginning
of nothingness. A sage once said, Look into the
void and see the dream. I did and it left me dancing
across the sky. In the stars, I saw my name written
boldly at first, then so tenderly that I wept. It’s
happening all the time, these tea parties partaken on
green lawns. But we don’t sip together, we drink fast,
rattle our cups, then run out of the yard, not even saying.
Goodbye old friend, nice to see you. It’s my night
to dine with the Queen, and my dress, folds of green
taffeta, swish swish swish. The dawn colors grow
as we dance and daylight will come soon. Soon. And
with the sun rising it begins again: hurry hurry, my love.