THE CLOSET MYSTIC

I met the formless goddess 

in a hallowed grove.

lulled by her song, 

we danced

in liminal slumber.

I sat at the shore–

waves beckoning,

tide rising,

ground coaxed— slowly,

so slowly,

grain

by grain.

But no sleep is the end—

not that beneath the Moon,

nor our final rest. 

Hand in hand,

we leapt—

& beneath the surface,

I did not drown, no—

I dreamt.