I, The Tired Moon

I, The Tired Moon

 

They tell me when the sun has gone

Behind the cloud, that night has come

For one more moment, swift.

I run to greet the shadow on the sandy beach

Of pebbled stars in clear shark night.

The roaming wave of humid blindness

Feels for my vivid form in nothingness,

But I find comfort in the sprinkle of light

As it blooms in the misty soil

From somewhere in the sanctum

Of my soul.

 

Frail, as a damp twig,

I, the tired moon, salute the coming day.

It begins again, a new wave to flow

On the deserted shore of wavy grass,

Shifted by the moving wind,

Cleansed by the awakening dew within.

Birds, peaked in song,

Bless the rays of sun,

Which soothe my growing shadow

On the tide of time.

 

The wind brushes past

The gray clouds in the dale.

Night leaves the ship;

Day has set sail.

 

Copyright © 2018/03/30 Barbara Harris Leonhard @extraordinarysunshineweaver.wordpress.com

 

Image: “Moon Shadow”  digital art ©Martha Harris See Martha’s Artistic Flarings @artisticflarings.blog