In the hush between heartbeats, moonlight drips like silver rain,
mist rising from the lake carries the echo of your name.
No words, only the slow drum of distant wings,
a loon cries once—then silence sings.
I walk the reed-lined path where shadows learn to breathe,
every footstep a candle the dark forgets to leave.
Let the world speak in trembling leaves; I will answer with stillness,
folding the night inside me until sunrise fills the hollowness.