Le mystère de la nuit

My nights are times of power and might,

but are often cut short.

It’s the time my spirit longs for the intangible- the spiritual,

the mystery of dark skies- the mystery of God.

It’s the time a bridge of gold and fire rolls down to the gates of my spirit for a marriage of spirits.

But half the nights, the ritual dies at my gates, troubled by my window’s light.

Night after night; the secret place, the hidden gates, sacred dates,

the minds of Gods and the wealth of paradise die at my gates troubled by my window’s light.