The Wolverine, The Bubble

Soft, soundless, rise.
Not nowhere you won’t reach.
You have your world being touched.
Soft, soundless Bubble, do more teach.

You have your impressions, your presence.
Subtly you are in here, within.
Soundlessly you are rising, visibly.
The rise, I wish, you had seen.

You’ll be there, at the surface, soon.
You’ll be a speck of a greater whole.
And you’ll have burst yourself beyond promise,
With the water you lived through still cold.

The moon, like hope, fades. Into the fortnight.
And hope, like the moon, is reborn.
Forest canine o’ mine, it has lived above light.
It will survive, when even the moon be torn.

The night tonight is darker, or not.
Not that it matters, not that it cares.
It breathes on the hill’s windward side.
The bubble’s air, even when light is spare.

Never less, all the more, never less.
Never blessed, but it breathes.
Never gone, for what would he leave.
Everywhere there is, there's moonlight that sheathes.

The Wolverine, The Bubble