Slowly dragged across the skies
Last night I saw the Moon rise
As if it had a course to run
As if it had a mission to fulfill
A vague reflection of the Sun
At night. The white Moon itself seems nearly ill.
Tonight the reflection is different:
Nearly could I touch the Moon- it went
So close to the trees
And it was yellow Golden.
Is that what- tell please!
Reality is like? The unholden
Torch, illuminating our Moon
The reflection of the Light that soon
Will be revealed. At dawn, when that
Light begins to pierce its Being
Through the Thorn-Woods, and sat
To rest on two eyes, filled with Expectation.
The vague reflection, the Moon, will fade away,
Slowly dragged across the skies
While the Sun begins to rise
As night gives way to day.
