It wasn’t my intention
to talk to the night
and wonder how it was
we could be friends.
The night, she told me,
in the last few moments
while you slept
the Morepork eggs
have hatched
and the mother’s body
with the brilliance of a living thing
now waits
until the tiny naked beings
are all feathered
before she’ll leave the nest.
And I understand that
when the time comes,
the night
she’ll turn towards
the light,
and whisper to the dawn,
it was in the early hours
a simple miracle took place,
before stepping back,
and gently
handing her gifts
to the sun
for safekeeping.
