…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