I am the one who
asks wildness of humanity
controls the tides
asks for nothing
is worshiped and followed
knows her path and purpose
keeps time with the ocean
bends on knees to no one
loves and guide others
sparks the call of the wolf

I am the one who stands under the moon.
The moon. The moon.
A change. The tarot knows the secrets, the mirror, a pond,
a heron.
I don’t or can’t turn back.
I love and can’t decrease
the sound of my heart.

What magic are you?
What magic is the night?
Why believe in some secret spark of soul?
Why believe in the darkness? What’s more than perpetrates the depth
and steals my illumination?