We, long and dark, are striding

Through the silent woods

Sighing in compassion with the vacillating glow-worm

Shine or hide

What shall we do with all our light?

Dare we waken famished foes to bring to earth a spark?

We who had planned passion in a privileged pilgrimage

Stranded on this rustic road, bereft of phone

In the open palm of fate, prostrate

Smell of spiced fern spilling in with every breath

And night dazzled naked to shake us through forgotten astral breadth

When every star starts shooting we’ll snap wisdom from that shine

Then mumble in kind to a hopeful worm

Let fallen steps return to tell us all is well

Love has forged a path ahead

Walk it or bless it red

Having been as kindred angels, we will not fear demons