Midnight Prayer

It is not simply
For evening breeze,

Dark pond, lustrous inky
Sky, hum of crickets,

Cool grass, evensong
Of creatures, that she

Emerges. It is the lure
Of soul awakening,

Nudging, prodding,
Drawing her into depths

Visible only at night. She
Roams moon-soaked fields,

Slips in the swirling river,
As if caught in a ghost

Story of a tragic lost love.
Awakened from death

She finds herself
Where she started–

On bloody knees, halfway
Between dusk and dawn.

{the power of prayer}
{soul awakening from death}