…her act of grace

The pale moon sails upon the sea of night
the mistress of darkness, the guardian of the tides
she determines the fate of the greatest oceans
her shimmering visage at odds with her dark sorcery
the creatures of darkness all know her name
lost souls and cursed wretches gaze upon her distant face
and in the moment they feel the touch of her light
blessed to be in her sight
and her veils, softly falling, surround them like a shroud
in which they wish to remain
the night flowers are blooming, their fragrance drifting again
in the early hours of morning the dewdrops are falling
and the warm winds stir the souls of every living thing
beautiful in the breeze and the shifting shadows
she is an epiphany, the promise of the night
in an ocean of sky and sea
unmoved by the seasons, she holds her place
gifting all with the soft light of her galaxy scarred face
for this is her act of grace
© Ann Bagnall