I don’t want to bother you too much with this,
An event whose magic I simply couldn’t resist.
I have seen the moon rise up from the sea,
Like the true orphan it was intended to be.
Looking a little forlorn and far from bright,
All dressed up in the darkness of the night.
Now losing some layers of its original size,
Casting off its milky hue, pretending to be wise.
The moon-lit face of land showing ageless lore,
Arousing feelings within I have never felt before.
The sight of the moon always comes as a surprise,
Limping there in the distance like a compromise.
An afterthought in the heavens amid twinkling stars,
But there it is, as if it truly belongs, as if it is ours.
Giving old eyes fresh insight into night’s wonder,
That an orphan moon can throw our heart asunder.
The old man in the moon always takes his own road,
Since ancient days, he knows where he wants to go.
The blank space of the night now a mystery most dear,
The moon becomes truth to pierce the heart like a spear.
Although that last line quite threw me I envision you relating your life to the phases of the moon. Your youth being a full moon and this old man rising the you. But, perhaps I am wrong.
it's incredible how an artificial body, the moon, which is the mirror and HQ of our planet, can touch us to our marrow, literally, 'pierce our hearts like a spear.' It is our compass in space and time, it is our balance in death and life. A wonderfully composed piece of poetry, John, today, in the first day of the lunar (Chinese) new year of Red Rooster. Cheers, alex
Like Mystic, I love the moon in every conceivable shape or mood it avails itself to us. It is just there affecting the tides and whatever else which we don't know about.
Explore the mystery of how nature makes unexpected gifts of creative wonders to an unsuspecting caregiver one late night and early morning in southeastern Georgia, USA.
Ron
Love ya!
Jane