Moon whispers

Breezy, breathless whispers
She speaks to you
Rasping, her voice is in the wind
Leaden overcast clouds scud
Trodden ground wet like mud

She asks ‘see, see me?’
Tho’ you look high and low
There is no sign of her
Raindrops splatter the pavement
And damp is the rising scent

The Moon is sheening silver
Hanging low in leaden dark sky
Reflecting the one true light
But long are the lunar shadows
Following us like the scudding clouds

The monthly days slowly lengthen
Tears of crystalline water droplets
As She no longer has anything to say
Ripples of a long gone era overwhelmed her
Caught in the shadow of the Son

The golden orb slowly sails its journey
She rises at dawn reflecting all
Like a mirror to all humanity
And in the ghostly lunar light
Everything can again be put to right

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Hideaway by Inga Nielsen

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