Annie Johnson

Annie Johnson

From the Mountains of the Night

From the Mountains of the Night, I emerge from the full Moon, Dressed in streams of silver light. The light of the Moon; the Moon of love; To meet you in the desert of the Sun God; Your bride to be, in a wedding of souls. We are the soft silver light of the Moon And the hot burning Light of the Sun Moving toward each other. We listen to the timeless whispers Of our souls whispering to each other. You call to me from the bed of the desert; I’m in thrall to the golden rays of longing And visions of my groom’s manly form. Let my dress of silver light, Drop to the floor of sand, when you behold me.

From the desert of the sun God, Golden I stand, awaiting my Moon bride. I wear flowing robes of golden light; A turban of desert air wraps my glittering being. My boots are made of finest kidskin To walk with you, across the sands of time. My soul has held visions of you forever. My body aches to possess you endlessly. My hand is outstretched to you, come… Come, Beautiful one, enter my tent of stars.

Written by poets Annie Johnson And Ayub Khawar