Also featuring the frogs in my pond…

A Voice In The Night


I wake in the night to a soft voice calling
slowly shed my garments of sleep.
Drawn to the garden, along a dark passage
I draw back the curtain to mystical light.

In luminous moonlight, fine rain is falling.
Naked, I kneel on the lawn - wet and silvered -
raise my eyes to flooding white.

I am the moon’s bride
waiting in celestial chambers.
I am many points of fusing light;
parts of me tremble
in the moon’s ring of rain.

In strange silence
I wait, in reverence, for her voice.

(c) Deb Matthews-Zott