The moon casts down patterns into the night

Paths of shadows, flowing soft as silk

Reflections of night frost

Slow dancing in the sighing wind

There is a heaviness and cooling mists

Falling gently upon the silence

The night is an ocean

An illusion

An empty heart

Yet overflowing with dreams

On this black velvet sea

Each wave crests higher than the last

Fading gently into the endless silence

And the darkness is alight

With the vivid blooms

Of yearning

 Ann Bagnall  2014.


One thought on “Yearning

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