HER MAJESTY, THE MOON

By, Myra Wexler Darwish

Unseen when she is new,

Cloaked in black and quiet;

She hints at what she might become.

A crescent appears.

An arc of delicate newborn energy;

The skies dare not disturb her elegance.

Motion stirs at her first quarter,

Sending roots deep into the Earth:

To Listen, gather, plan, and grow.

Patiently, the waxing gibbous 

Refines and edits,

Nurturing herself with ideas.

In fullness, she peaks.

Taproots having blossomed,

She pridefully holds bouquets in her arms.

At gibbous’ waning, she is ready to release,

Teaching and serving others with

Her cherished yield.

With the last quarter, adjustment begins, and

The earth retains the now dormant blooms.

Knowing her strength, she forgives herself.

At last, the crescent wanes:

Surrendering, resting, reflecting, and 

Intuiting on what was, and what might be.

© Copyright 2019 Myra Wexler Darwish

Created May 21, 2019