She is standing at the screen door again,
crying, as she looks up into the night.
The moon is missing.
Just last week she had friends and life was good,
but now she knows better. It is cold and
the moon is missing.
On the beach, the tide is rolling in, with
Venus looking on. It’s not true that
the moon is missing
but she won’t know until she learns to see
she is beautiful, and ready. Only
the moon is missing.
8 comments:
until she is ready to see she is beautiful...there are so many that struggle with this...it makes me wonder what changed for her since those few days back...
That is a power line, Poet! She is beautiful and ready...she just can't see the moon unless she stops getting in her own way...fantastic little write that takes the reader down a number of routes...well played!
Until one learns to love themselves, as they say...it is a sad fact of the world that so many lovely souls cannot see the beauty or worth within. But then, on some level, it's a battle we all fight at one time or another...
Wow, this is beautiful!
Hmmm... yeah, this very cool. You've introduced us to the abyss that often opens the door. I felt the world slip a little between the synapses in the silence between the words.
A compelling and intriguing poem-- we project our inner absence on the physical world, no? I vote, with Rilke, to take that world within, merge outer and inner....xxxj
So much pain in this! Beautiful writing.
So difficult to see the beauty in the world until you see it in yourself.
Interesting to think that the monthly "missing moon" is the New Moon, the moon of beginnnings, the most propitious time to do spells for things you want to wax in your life in the month to come.
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