Under the Moon

In the stillness of the night,
the hour before dawn,
when the world seems to hold its breath,
the moon hangs low over my house
turning from silver to copper in a sleepy sky.

The owl no longer hoots and the
trees begin to stretch their limbs.
This is the time when my senses soar
and sweetness summons my soul,
opening my heart like a morning rose.

It is like walking in a dream,
floating so close to the stars
that I feel I could reach up and touch one.
In the silence is where beauty flows.