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When I was young, white moonlight poured in, nights Through my gauzy white curtains, and the world turned paler, A ghostly apparition of it's daytime countenance. The whiteness contained all the emotion, of my whole life's turning Condensed down into streaming rays of silvered light- And that moonlight scoured, cleansed everything it touched; Nothing was sordid, forgettable, unimaginable; the magic turned all Into a fairy's world, of majestic mystery and translucent dignity. I trusted the moonlight. Moonlight today is not the same; My curtains don't block it, but the moon doesn't seem to smile as large And I know too many secrets and disappearances now- When I knew less, the fantasies could sustain the weight of my world, Which has since grown too heavy, and the hour now is late. I feel if I could reach that lost moonlight one more time, I could find the other self, the one knew so much more of nothing, But was secreted between the moonlit nights And felt satisfied, not yet knowing the deep inward emptiness of life, And the way the colors get released one by one From the central altar of night time’s lamp, And how particles of soul get extinguished; Released to another life, in the far-travelling moonbeams. But the moon does not remember bewitching my face, Which has grown cratered with time, And while the moon slowly steals our breaths away, And covers up our eyes with its brilliance, It's hands pick our pockets nightly, And take everything there that is light, bright, glowing To return it to the moon-blinded young. While we just keep on growing darker, Until they shove us back underground again- Now even the moon has forgotten my face.
0
Jul 4, 2010
Jul 4, 2010 at 6:49 AM UTC
Even the Moon Has Forgotten My Face
When I was young, white moonlight poured in, nights Through my gauzy white curtains, and the world turned paler, A ghostly apparition of it's daytime countenance. The whiteness contained all the emotion, of my whole life's turning Condensed down into streaming rays of silvered light- And that moonlight scoured, cleansed everything it touched; Nothing was sordid, forgettable, unimaginable; the magic turned all Into a fairy's world, of majestic mystery and translucent dignity. I trusted the moonlight. Moonlight today is not the same; My curtains don't block it, but the moon doesn't seem to smile as large And I know too many secrets and disappearances now- When I knew less, the fantasies could sustain the weight of my world, Which has since grown too heavy, and the hour now is late. I feel if I could reach that lost moonlight one more time, I could find the other self, the one knew so much more of nothing, But was secreted between the moonlit nights And felt satisfied, not yet knowing the deep inward emptiness of life, And the way the colors get released one by one From the central altar of night time’s lamp, And how particles of soul get extinguished; Released to another life, in the far-travelling moonbeams. But the moon does not remember bewitching my face, Which has grown cratered with time, And while the moon slowly steals our breaths away, And covers up our eyes with its brilliance, It's hands pick our pockets nightly, And take everything there that is light, bright, glowing To return it to the moon-blinded young. While we just keep on growing darker, Until they shove us back underground again- Now even the moon has forgotten my face.
patti-masterman-heterodynemind
Written by
Jul 4, 2010
Jul 4, 2010 at 6:49 AM UTC
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