The inky silence softens
with the coming of a moth;
quiet wings, my quiet heart
opens to this velvet night.
And when the early morning glow
soaks the gently waking Earth,
young feelings will trickle slowly in
these thirsty veins, to oxygenate
deep in my chest of morning breath
for the first time since November.
Pale sunlight trickles along
a spider’s web beneath her silent feet.
The web of nerves and veins
beneath my skin is slowly waking;
the voices will dissipate like mist,
and I will see the distant mountains clearly.