She doesn’t always look the same
Sometimes she’s a silver sphere
Fooling you that she is bright
But she’s just a mistress of the night

Sometimes only half of her you can see
Following you wherever you’ll be
She hides while dancing in the sky
Half, still a full beauty up high

In time, she becomes thin, crescent
Like a smile, a blissful moment
She looks delicate, discriminating
Only a part of her, still breathtaking

And only those prison of the night
Will witness the euphoric stint
Of showing pieces of her then
The beauty of becoming whole again

My energy ebbs
in this autumn
like the yellow leaves
falling from mother Elm
calling goodbyes
slowly departing for another realm.

There must have been a time
When the world was quiet
just the moving trees and the breeze
and the waving meadow grass
When did that moment pass?
Now and again away from the din
a little stillness creeps back in
Maybe it’s been there all along
With its peaceful non-existent song
Perhaps we just forgot how to listen
to the silence!

Now only the heavy stickiness of sadness
adheres to her lips
she tastes bitterness
where once she tasted the
warm concoction
that was Love
she wipes her fingers
across her face
still hungry

Crying
Curbing
Braking
Dry branches

passing storm
leaving silent
bending branches  
hitting darkness
in your windows

I can sing
I can cry

I can sing like the mother’s lullaby
and howl like the wolf in the full moon
I can shake up dreamers in the dark

I am
the wind

the crying
the braking
the singing
the barking

I am the fright
of dry branches