The Mirror Dimension

The moon at its peak,

and the air abuzz with

night-time insects,

heavy with the day's warmth,

Sleep does not come easy.

I wander to the water,

lily pads glow in the dim.

He waits for me,

kelpie bridled and in hand.

I know what awaits

the letting go

of home, and comfort.

For the mirror dimension,

in the water reflections,

it lurks.

And if I let go,

and take his hand,

gaze into his molten eyes,

and touch his jet black hair,

If we ride the bound water-horse

to the other side,

I may well be lost forever.

And would it be a dream,

that envelopes and twists,

in the world beyond what

dwells beneath the lilies?

Or will it be waking up?