The silence dawns on my heart
shining light into its inner chambers -
like a perfectly aligned solstice sun
illuminating the walls of an ancient temple.
Suddenly, the Tender Ones,
who've been asleep for days, or years,
begin to wake and stir and stretch.
Sensing the opportunity alive
they reach for the door
and show their sweet, unruly heads.
Some of them haven't really been sleeping.
They play asleep while the grown up looks,
and whisper and sing in the night to the stars
hoping the boomerang of Truth will return as starlight.
And it does return in this soundless moment.
A song of grief and praise and longing.
A loneliness so deep it both
soothes and separates at once.
Undulating beauties with sweet siren songs,
they draw me into my own Death -
into togetherness and solitude,
Life and Remembrance -
as the Holy Nights approach.