Archer pulls back
Reaching deep into
What lay behind.
Tension builds and
Arms tremble with
The Strain of expansion’s
Bow of grace.
Sight is set
Precise and sure
In its intention
To claim for its
Own the space of mark.
Breathe deeply
But ever so gently
Breathe deep
Giving air to what
Shall soon be released.
Steady now
Take aim
Pull back just
Ever so slightly more.
Arrow of will
Pierces and cleaves
The dark of night.
Sparks leave a trail
Of contracting light
Etching the master plan
Of desired intent.
The point of focus
Hits its mark.
And what is begun
From embers that seek
To birth a flame of
Full Moon’s light
Carries the archer
Aloft soaring into
Dark Moon’s fertile night.