Companions of the Night

The night, my restless companion,

Writhed and whispered beneath a velvet sky,

Longing, aching to enfold the moon

Within her silken arms.

The moon—

A silver wanderer, eager too,

To hide beneath the cloak of night,

To seek refuge in her quiet shadow.

But clouds—

Who knows from where, who knows how—

Spoke the entire secret tale,

Betrayed the tender meeting planned,

And wrapped the moon in misty veils,

Veiling silver with soft grey.

Still the night was restless,

Burning with desire to hold the moon,

Her heart aflame beneath the darkened dome.

The wind, a tender messenger,

Could hardly bear the night’s wild longing,

A soft caress stirred through the air,

Whispering to the clouds to move away—

Let the moon be free, let the night embrace.

And so the clouds parted—

Like curtains drawn back at a secret play—

The night stretched wide her arms,

And cradled the moon close,

A silent, sacred hiding place.

The moonlight shied,

Blushing through the folds of dark,

The moon itself, a bashful guest,

Peeking shyly from the sky’s embrace.

When the moon ascends the night again,

Behind a veil of drifting clouds,

It calls to the night with silent song,

And as dawn creeps,

The moon once more retreats,

Hiding away—

A secret shared only with the dark.