Moonsong

Moonsong

He heard the Moon sing one night.

He knew it was she,

A voice of silver and glass,

And timeless longing.

He did not know the words,

But he felt them nonetheless,

And wished to give her what she asked,

But could only offer distant sorrow.

He heard her song a second night,

Clearer, if not nearer,

But no less heart-rending,

And he stood a while outside.

The third night of the song

He bathed in her light,

A shared sorrow felt,

For what he did not yet know.

On the fourth night he slept outside,

Her song guiding his dreams,

Tales woven of flight and loss,

And the knowledge of lasting grief.

The fifth night he did not sleep,

Instead savoring the sadness and regret

As if it were his own,

A sweet melancholy too large to bear.

In the morning they found him

And remarked on the sadness he wore,

And bore him away to his last rest,

And wondered at the stillness of the day.

Cliff Lake 12/11/2023

CliffSongs