Moon By Spilling Stars

the wish to grow

like curled mist

flows & covers

our river’s depth

challenging navigation

that cry from the woods

a being whom we do not know

sounding each night after dusk

signals immediate return

toward these, our passing

prescient moments

life force rises

& knows

what it knows

finds its way

to the lost one

the forest crier

she who negotiates

hard & narrow straits

by trusting the cosmos

of her luminous body

come drop back & down

into fertile depths

where nothing needs defense

where dark hearts

heal whole & howl

so it is, beloved, so it is

the wish to grow is granted