night

The light of day has faded.
At last,
sweet dusk has come;
bathing in cool and quiet
the tame and untamed places.
Tranquil time.
Deer graze the wild meadow
and drink from limpid pools.
Caution eases
as day's glare and motion
slip from view.

Peace.

Now the dark arms of night
embrace our woods.
Blessed dark has come
the night magic begins.
Nocturnal stirrings,
tender and vulnerable,
expose themselves in velvety shadow.
The lush carpet of darkness
protects.

In the depth of the night
surface thoughts and feelings
deemed foolish in the harsher light of day.
But here, in the dark
the seed is rooted.
Here, in the dark
the beginnings begin.
Here, in the dark
the wellspring of passion.


Beth McCarthy Marks
1991