moon child.

they call her moon child,

the girl with a midnight soul

and an anxious heart

she listens to their soft hum music

as they sing songs to the forest trees

about all her phases,

the way she moves between

new moon voodoo and full moon magic,

the way she knows all your secrets,

holding them in the folds and creases

of shadows that grace her surface,

the way she fades from sight

just long enough for you to miss her

they immortalize her in lyrics,

writing them into constellations

and spreading them across the sky

Namaste

 

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There is something true about the sun,
something honest in the way it rises and sets,
as if it knows we need a little light to guide us,
but also understands that we’re a little dark too

I remember in college,
on those early mornings after nights I couldn’t sleep,
I’d sit on the balcony,
watching the leaves change color
They always seemed so vibrant
in the dawn’s glow

And, in grad school, that night I sat beside you
taking in the city skyline as the day faded away,
orange and pink skies drinking in the moonlight
until only the star-studded black remained

There is a certain peace
in knowing that
I’m never watching the it alone
Somewhere, someone else is captivated,
soul bound to sky
and the sun
and each other

Breath of Words© 10/2/17

photo: J. Spann