night

the tambourine sings
a tune unfamiliar.
everything has stilled,
including my breath.
the blue sheet over me
is getting cooler, i sink
deeper into the pillows,
deeper into the coils,
of this moonless night.
strangely comforting
are her dark tendrils.
i am lulled by the tune.
the deafening rush
of blood through the veins
has quietened, they say,
it will be hours before
that too will pause.
the yearning to be one
with the black moss,
growing on the path
you might take someday
has been granted.
the tambourine sings on.
will i ever want to wake?