Even The Clouds Won’t Withhold The Moon

Unwillingly I set her free

Image courtesy of Adobe Stock

In the depths of the night
in the brief moments 
that the world 
lowers its voice
I hear the things
that carry me away
away from my pain
away from my racing thoughts
away from the isolation 
and the unwelcome presence
of the aching absence of sleep

the songs of the wind
that brush so gently
against my skin
unknowingly trigger 
bolts of lightning
that for a second
burn deeper than sin
but as I breathe 
one deep breath 
after another
eyes closed
heart open
the lyrical melody
its whispered secrets
spoken for me alone
soothe my aching soul

the sawing serenade
of cicadas
their undulating chorus
rising and falling
in the echoing corridors
of night
competing decibels
with the orchestra of torture
buried deep
in the crumbling canyons
of my bones
but eyes closed
heart open
I still breathe
one deep breath
after another
and I think of the brevity
of cicada life
and am in awe 
of their joyful song
precious moments
out of the darkness
lived out loud

the symphony of moonlight
sifts through the trees
through the curtains
through to me
silent soft and shimmering
yet in her silence
the lady moon still sings
she sings in gold and silver
her touch feather light
in my heart
and eyes open
I breathe her in
and close my heart
for long seconds
to feel her healing touch
then unwillingly
I set her free
returning her to the sky
that moment of freedom
she gifted me
those seconds of peace
so cherished
who am I to keep her contained
when even the clouds
won’t withhold the moon from me?

© Ann Bagnall

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.