Night’s doorways

Blindly,
night comes to me.

Naked,
night reaches deeply into me.

Yet in a distant forest an owl hoots,
a call to my name.

My name to be a door into
another valley, home
to many houses empty
for want of words.

Silently night turns into
dream, a view into
a past (mine?), giving rise
to an understanding:

me and this world -
we are both looking for
where there is reason
rooting
though no earth is visible.

Me and this world, we breathe
relief through grief -
in joy we may inhabit this valley,
our life,

when we have drunk all of
night’s rain, all till the last drop,
those empty houses will welcome people.

Night comes to be its own door
into a new day. There shall be children
inheriting the valley.