Star lit moon, a slip of meaning
sinking into western skies.
Ancient runes and mystic gleanings.
Testing dark waters, dotting sharp “I”s.
It’s not that I have sure answers
or clear questions
or any reasons why.
It’s not that I even know
that there are answers.
I merely dare to try.
What can I ask of you?
Hope those who share my cares exist?
I ask for marquee-lit privilege,
a chance, a shining prayer
to impinge my light
into omnipresent air.