Moontime

She lights the sky in her cold brilliance
hiding secrets beneath her blanket of quiet
Good and evil are wrapped together
like strange bedfellows with uncommon goals

The night belongs to her as she hears the confessions
of sleeping monsters and the dreams of near angels
There is comfort in their slumber as their secrets are safe
and each tale plays out on a stage with her as the only audience

As she wanes so do the ambitions of honest men
who through no fault of their own save for being human,
are forced to forsake their hopes for success and happiness
and the realization that daylight will only illuminate their failures

When the last vestiges of her fullness dim the heavens
those consumed with malintent will seize the day
And leave the comfort of the blanket for another
opportunity to destroy faith, betray trust and shatter hope.

Yes she is cold in her presence and her blanket
provides only temporary security for the dreamers
for she cannot hide what will be revealed nor can
she reveal that which shall remain hidden.

©2009 Marsha Dean Walker