…under the light of the rising moon

I am many things
a wind dancer
a star watcher
a dreamer
a selenophile
and I bloom
like dreams bloom
under the light
of the rising moon
I ache to see her face
and drench myself
in her silken veils
ever entranced
by her singular
silent, beauty

I hear the songs
that only dreamers
can ever hear
for every season
sings its own song
spring…
sings sweetly
of growth
summer…
sings brightly
of hope
autumn…
sings sadly
of loss
winter…
sings sorrowfully
of devastation
together, they become
a single song
of existence
the sweet disorder of life

I feel it circling
deep in my veins
deep in my heart
and in my wandering soul
it fills my empty spaces
carries me away
to distant places
sometimes
to quiet corners
where peace
and reflection
settle gently upon me
sometimes
to places of turmoil
where my heart breaks
into a thousand pieces

but life moves on
for it has to, it must
and I will never know
if my path is set in stone
or if the winds of change
will steer me
in another direction
so yes, I watch
and I dream and I bloom
and yes, I dance with Selene
and perhaps, one day
I will catch a falling star
in the palm of my hand
and it will sear my destiny
in stardust, upon my skin
© Ann Bagnall