On this first night of the new year
the Moon rises, full
yet veiled by extravagantly modest
silky mists,
floating serenely through
deep violet skies,
encircled by handmaiden stars.

O moon, I have the honor
of embracing your fading splendor
when you have sailed across
the spangled sea,
when, at last,
tired and pale,
your foot touches
morning's shore.

I will ever welcome you,
faint and disappearing,
into arms that could never hope
to hold your light of fullness,
and I will bear you tenderly
as a dream sleeping against my shoulder,
through each long bright day,
my weightless secret,
until we reach again the portal of twilight, where
my softest kisses, brushing your evanescent eyelids,
will bid you to stir, glow, and rise,
and fill my empty night again
with mystic light.

Ever and again, O Moon, will I follow your arcing journey,
galloping through night's uncertain lands below,
racing to meet you again
on dawn's awakening shore.
Since I cannot yet fly with you above,
I will love you thus,
your invisible breath
against my cheek,
the vision of your dreams
wrapped around my heart,
your mysterious embrace
my cloak.

Each dusk I dream: my longing
lifts me with you,
a second dark moon,
slumbering, a shadow,
through night's deepest mysteries
never parted,
never apart.