02 – Zhi Jing

A mystery
A dead bolt slides
The dead of night
A child is stirred
Without fright
His sleepy eyes
Rubbed in to focus
To catch a glimpse
Of those among us
A solitary
Little girl
Quietly laughs
Finger to curl
Follow me
She slyly says
For we are one
Yet I am dead

Arise my boy
Shake from your slumber
For one and one
Is now our number
With sleight of hand
And shadow play
We shall dance
Until that day
When we shall meet
On the same plane
Within the heart
Of the hunts game
And to the chase
We both shall take
The love that shook us
From our wake