How Slow the Night

Eyes roam darkness

Searching anything that might take focus

Aimless as drifters

And wide as a full moon

Hope springs eternal for the blackness to seep blessedly into the mind

A gentle cloud to summon rest and restoration

Bodily ready as if for crucifixion

Arms open welcoming fairies and magic dust

Prayers uttered

Give me rest and all will be yours

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