If you had blinked you would have missed her.
A figure made of mist,
drifting just above the water
dripping with light
and drooping with melancholy.

She had moonlit skin,
and I watched as beads of the heavens
slid down her body,
crystalized,
and dropped
into the pond below her.

I catch her eyes in surprise,
filled with wonder and stars
as she disperses across the water.

I pick up the stone left behind
and like a fool
I name it:
Moonstone.