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