The woman in the moon is made of waves

If you look close, she swells and falls always

Like the sea; like a dancer's last dance.

Cold but never sad nor bitter nor raw

She showers honey light on us all -

On the eyelids of the sick and the foreheads of sleeping children

In cups of milk with cookie crumbs and late night drives

On the hot breath of love and the dreams of travel

But most of all, inside each inestimable soul,

That is where her dancing, swelling, honey from the sea light goes.