Full Moon Rising from Mosher Hill in Farmington, Maine |
To the Moon
Your presence is so steady,
your phases predictable,
your comings and goings
such a delight.
You have the power to pull tides,
shift energies,
reflect the sun’s light.
Your patterns
have a quiet
soothing majesty.
Sometimes being with you
is especially profound,
resonates deeply,
both within and without.
On a familiar hilltop she waits,
wonders where you are
as she anticipates your full rising.
She sees the low clouds,
but doesn’t realize
how dense they are
until your vibrant light emerges,
higher in the sky than expected.
She breathes, sighs, settles.
As you slowly make your way
into the twilight sky
she feels her own light expand
with yours
as inner clouds disperse.
You gently tug her heartstrings,
allowing antiquated pulls to lessen.
She breathes, sighs, settles even more.
With one more look
she gratefully
turns toward home,
your light,
her light,
leading her
tenderly there.
Your presence is so steady,
your phases predictable,
your comings and goings
such a delight.
You have the power to pull tides,
shift energies,
reflect the sun’s light.
Your patterns
have a quiet
soothing majesty.
Sometimes being with you
is especially profound,
resonates deeply,
both within and without.
On a familiar hilltop she waits,
wonders where you are
as she anticipates your full rising.
She sees the low clouds,
but doesn’t realize
how dense they are
until your vibrant light emerges,
higher in the sky than expected.
She breathes, sighs, settles.
As you slowly make your way
into the twilight sky
she feels her own light expand
with yours
as inner clouds disperse.
You gently tug her heartstrings,
allowing antiquated pulls to lessen.
She breathes, sighs, settles even more.
With one more look
she gratefully
turns toward home,
your light,
her light,
leading her
tenderly there.
Sarah Carlson
April 10, 2020
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