The Book Of Nightfour Poem by Daniel Brick

Interlude

The crescent Moon is as bright as a master
samurai's sword. It has already sliced
the clouds from the sky, and they tumbled
haphazardly below the horizon. The sky
is empty, only its dark blue color attests
to its existence. But its grandeur extends
for one thousand feet across the rocky terrain,
a blue cushion punctured by gray knives.
The air that bleeds invisibly rises to sustain us.

Nothing is left to disturb the scene's calm,
unless my roiling thoughts might cause such harm.
I declare an interlude, a respite from effort,
even the effort to be silent. L E T I T B E
My Will I suspend. It has caused enough turmoil
to no good end. My thoughts I abandon because
their task finished, I move on to a different
cognition: They created this Moment with the help
of Beautiful Language. It is enough... Let Be.
Assume the posture of statues, become frozen music for a while.