prayer upon an empty hilltop
what stars I find will usher me,
the moon will beam camaraderie,
what winds will wind around my ears
will bend to answer for my fears.
between them, all the endless space
will draw eternity to face
with vast and reassuring mien
the quandaries of the unserene.
here, the shade of me will mark
a figure in the violet dark.
all the hilltop consorts know
identity's illusion, though.
let starlight penetrate my skin,
the moon expand to let me in,
the winds, again, absorb my voice,
if retrieval be their choice.