…endless circles of life

The clock has stopped
the lady moon has fallen heavily
upon the sands of time
pieces of her scattered like treasure
across the weeping night
she is awaiting the flood tides
that will carry her brokenness away
away with the music of darkness
as it reaches into the shadows
searching for its lost refrain
that was once stolen by the summer wind
but finding no solace there
it slowly bleeds away, fading to whispers
and in its wake a soft blush of moonbeams
perfumed and passionate
pearlescent and shimmering
are rising from the ashes of the fall
the clock, whose sudden stop
brought the moon to ground
takes a tentative tick and a tentative tock
breathes deeply of the night
and shrouded in the shimmering veils of her light
both time and tide resume their endless cycles of life
© Ann Bagnall