Like a Blanket

By Sam Exner

in the Dark, he moves with no sound

though, i feel at Ease as i feel him all around—

his crooked finger— held out to me

oh, you poor creature— misunderstood, almost like me, could it be?

All fear to utter his name, the mere whisper causes a scare

could one fear the one who is truly the one, so just and fair?

Tales of him can make one's skin feel like a cool tin

yet like a blanket, i feel and accept him

it envelops me, yet they who call themself gods— would call it sin

yet— i take his hand and i go, and not on a limb

it is now dark, the candles within— were they always so dim?

yet this moment feels like many years ago

hear me, he is not an enemy, nor a foe

unlike the many around— only he can understand

that i rather be with him than be with the many who’d force my hand

because he is like a blanket to me, he is the moon

and i am the sea, so far yet so close— and they can call me a loon

He is the night, he can be full or just a blob in the sky

as i hide monsters that they fear to confront— oh my,

so here he takes me, and so gracefully i go with lace and bundles of many buds

i am eased from the ocean, the one they have filled with sud

yet he does not care, for he is just, and now will make me now a star.