Come Into The Darkness

When the horned moon lifts her head,
Like an axe-wielding woman of dreams
From the forest and the desert lands;
When the rose has turned a dusty red
And faded and died upon silver sands
Watered with the ever-murmurous sea;
At the hour of the brightest moonbeams,
Then come into the darkness; then come to me.

When the forest is alive with stars
Caught and tangled in the moving boughs
Far from their home in the darkened skies;
When the horses of the night-wind's cars
Are dancing with the wind in their eyes,
Prancing, and eager to be away;
At the hour when the Old Woman plows,
Then come into the darkness; then come to stay.

When a song without source or words
Is dancing over the desert's dunes,
Losing and finding itself in the moonlight;
When the faery songs of strange birds
Are weaving themselves into midnight,
And turning themselves into star-sparks;
At the hour when dance a dozen moons,
Then come into the darkness; then come to darks.

When a sweet laughter tightens your chest,
And the chill grants you a crown of white frost
That freezes in the wind until it is ice;
When your heart reaches out of your breast
And makes of day a willing sacrifice
That with a willing hand and open you give;
At the hour when all souls are lost,
Then come into the darkness; then come to live.

When you tire of denying what you are,
Then come into the darkness by star,
And search me out, sunlight forsaking.
Come into the darkness; I will be waiting.