That Night
A poem by Julia R. DeStefano
To be touched by her is to begin the journey home. ~Bashford
That Night
Who is she, that Lady in Red -
the one in your arms
breathing your name
with that face — that face after love —
and your fingertips tracing her blue veins?
Her song pours over you.
She dances, unafraid to eat up the earth
with excitable gift in-hand -
whispering, everything here is possible
because it can’t rain forever
and the bad dreams need talking-back-to.
Hear how she knocks at the doorway of your heart
under the light of a half moon
and kisses that can’t stop themselves!
She’s the one who leapt from the page —
tired of this lifetime with herself —
to lie down beside you and rest awhile.
But she took her story with her -
something about an animal joining its soul
and finally knowing
the sweet taste of truth.
Listen.
© Julia R. DeStefano
