soniacookbroen
The Moonwatchers
sometimes this is too much to take in
this world
in all her extravagance
of glory and pain
bleeding and devastation
wreaking havoc on the shell of a being
the shell makes a quiet place
one must have
to sit alone
and stare at the moon
to wonder what it is all about
to be alive
to the very last fiber
to the twisted matrix of one’s core
and courting fever
the strange equinox arising
horizon births
new beginnings
broken free from tethers
of old
tired
spent
the horse is finally dead.
bleeding at the doorstep and the blood is seeping
the fire creeping
in our denial we lie sleeping
fervently plotting battlefields
here we are beneath the August moon
some months from now and Autumn falls
yet again
the while we have with us
stacked pages within us
story to be told lies yet untold
summer’s bridge and springs fury
this Opus
I await with patience potent
moment upon my lips
and until the breath is parted from this breast
I anticipate
beneath a pregnant moon
