The Midnight Wind

Upon the Midnight Wind,
In the blanketed glistening of Her skies,
Were offerings of cradled Peace.
She gave freely,
To the men of the Bible, the Quran, the Torah
Weaving herself into Humanity's construct.

Yet I could not know Peace,
Not through the catechizing of Her nights,
Nor through the warnings of Wisdom sleeping unperturbed in Her arms,
And not from humbly uttered text.
Not from the fallen Kasbah, 
Not from ancestral robes,
Nor from the heirs of dreams.

Instead, I battled to learn Peace, 
Who dared me, engulfed me when I cried myself tearless, unworthy, desperate.
The dark shook my warrior.
Peace found me in the deserts of the soul of a soulmate,
In the noisy little breaths of my sleeping children,
Deep in my heart's compass.

One night, one day,
I will run behind the Midnight Wind,
While She howls across the sands
For the tribes of the Earth.
To follow Her.