Moonsong
by G.K.
When awake and alone in a bed drenched in her blue light,
The Moon seems to shine for the lonely people,
Illuminating the empty crumpled sheets beside them,
Holding the forgetful hands that instinctively reach across,
Still expecting to find warmth and a pulse.
But the Moon is more alive than we think, she rises and falls and changes,
Slowly tilting her mysterious paleface away from us day by day
Until there is nothing but black above us and for a brief night,
We experience the darkness that exists in her absence.
The Moon is more alive than we think;
She shares a cycle with every woman, taking 28 days to go from
Dark to dark again, waxing and waning into familiar shapes
Of toenails and crescents and pizza pies;
She brings romance to the lovers,
Who dance and laugh beneath her in each other’s arms,
Outlines of hands and cheeks and lips are made softer by her glow,
Encouraging them to sing louder and hug tighter and kiss harder;
She brings peace to the baby’s slumber,
Provides a light for night swimming and campfires,
She is a friend to wolves and the lonesome dreamers.
When standing at the edge of vast ocean or lying in the middle of an open field,
Letting the Moon’s waves lickyour toes or her light soak your skin,
Unable to think of anything other than how tiny you are,
Be like the her,
Rising and falling,
Waning and waxing,
In complete silence,
And for no reason.
