Another Dark Night of the Soul

One windy night
when all was left
were embers of the soul
I too walked out
As the John of old
Each forward step
fought by gushes cold.

Cold gushes entered
hitting the fore of brow
Numbing all of past and present
Collapsed it in the now
Now, where all the meaning comes
And keeps getting passed
by the now that follows
and that follows
Trampled and amassed,
(then trampled again.)

I ventured further, as if,
driven by a call
Of a silent whistle,
a rustle of the remnants of the fall.
Summoned into the court
of the 'half moon' king
His subjects shining all around
occasionally twinkling.

Oh Moon oh holy Sun, I said
Us, thy holy children
We as you are possessors
of Beauty of the Light
Why then suffer
being unbeknown
from this dreadful plight.
How may the fears allay?
How may stop the fight?
How be the self-illuminate?
How may the soul alight?

Now, each question that asks me
I take it for a stroll
Hoping that it lasts me
Unlike mortal friendships
So that one day
I hope in return
to it, answers I can dole,
About how to wake up from the
Dark Night of the Soul