Ah, sleek moonlight, velvety soft,
Unfurls the path to the Taraweeh Mosque.
Countless fireflies, on fine silken wings,
Catch fast in the silver weave of lunar groves.
Soon, the first Ramadan crescent blooms above,
While the silent tuberose lingers, imprinting deeper still.
Oof—how many did I embrace? One or two?
Myriads light the way to the Taraweeh Mosque.

It was only the other night—
The first crescent of Ramadan shimmered,
Piercing the flawless forehead of twilight,
In the hush of the fading dusk.
Even now, across the half-lit horizon,
Sleepless full-moon stars drift,
While the first, blessed crescent of Ramadan
Moves on in seamless procession.

When will the celebration reach its full bloom?
Today marks the fourteenth fast,
Already shining upon the fourteenth moon!

A crescent moon
Is like the coolest banana
It somehow remains mellow
While things are blue
And flowers are exotic
For heavens they reach for you

A crescent moon
Is like the jazz of a ballerinas hips
The way it sweetly dips
For our blank gaze and our love
While things are cold
Her luminous beauty is bold
With heavens and its stars
That sparkle for me and you

Reynaldo Casison

Lo, another Ramadan dawn breaks,
millions more feelings of solemnity fill the air.
The time to bid farewell is upon us,
a moment both heavy and sacred.

O blissful Ramadan, brimming with purity and reflection,
when hearts and homes open wide, embracing all.

Prepare to leave, adorned with the beauty of Allah’s bounty:
Your movement like déjà vu moonlight,
your grace as delicate as the finest Muslin.
Let every rose from the garden encircle you,
a garland of farewell.

In the golden hour of dusk,
when Iftar and Suhur beautifully intertwine,
the sweetness of the evening fills the air, nourishing souls.

With a nectar of kindness, bid adieu to every friend of nature
their essence lingers in memory,
sweet as the moments spent in devotion and joy.

'Alvida' - a farewell not of forever
but of waiting until we meet again.
Draw the last stroke of parting on the canvas of the sky,
leaving a promise beneath the rainbow.

Parting with the crescent moon, hearts overflow with hope
O Ramadan, until we welcome you again,
let the essence of your purity and peace remain with us.

Farewell, O holy month
Your parting leaves behind a trail of light,
guiding us until your return.

I was the crescent moon, a sliver in the night,
Yet in his gaze, I found a radiant light.
He saw me whole, beyond my fragmented part,
Love's alchemy, merging soul to heart.


In phases of shadows, incomplete and bare,
His eyes unveiled the beauty hidden there.
A crescent's curve, a tender, silver arc,
Yet in his vision, a masterpiece embarked.


His love, a symphony, the missing tune,
Transforming fragments into a whole monsoon.
I, the crescent moon, in his orbit swayed,
Completeness found in the love we portrayed.


Through waxing and waning, love remained,
A cosmic dance where wholeness was gained.
In his embrace, the crescent found its grace,
Love's magic turning fragments into an embrace.

Crack some fire
everywhere
on the way heaven.
Light the shadow
light a candle
down the moon.

The sun in fact
does it every day.
Scurries towards
the last dark room
down the moon.

With the colour plate
intact and full
passes by shining on
every corner and nook
every untouched end in the day
the rainbows peep on the way.

Sneaks its way through
the deep forests of orbs
up and down the passages
in the mountains of stars
even after nightingales
and robins go deep silent
the sun tiptoes on the go
lights a candle on the moon.

Moments after the sunset
facing its true north in the West
only to find in heaven
the way The Queen of Heaven
puts her footprint less step
it's the sun's true West
shows up the new crescent.

Here we are again, in my darkest night,
I’ve never escaped
I thought the last stretches of a pitch-black pool did not  reach me.

Should I be happy on the crescent carving my brokenness?
you said how beautiful the glimpse of the moonlight is,
they have been a prosaic, silvery dust in dismal,
but now, they are a rare light in the sky.

I adore things that aren’t mine
and so you are,
I held an illusion in my desperation, and it wasn’t the universe's fault for sculpting an embodiment of galaxies and stars, such ethereal like you were living in a myth.

You can be there and begone or just begone
(your mercurial imperative) but this time, I wanted to be left on the traces where you were at.

The first half light crescent sneaked out
catching a glimpse of you glinting  
exuberant on the pitch dark
edge of the other side of the pool
wrapped in pure kohl.
Time and again matching the vision
it waxes into the full moon.

Awake all night in the serene shadow
down the blinded silhouetted earth.
I can see out off its calm lock
a firefly flies out and maybe afar
but that view might not miss no star.
But does even the moon see the tuberose
blooms in dark earth deep down the kohl?

"What thing did hurt you the most?" He asked.
"drowning" I answered.

He look at me as if he scrutinized each word to say.

"you can simply swim against the currents" he said.

I know he can do everything and there's one girl who couldn't even bear to touch the waters.

"You know how much grievance the ocean had bestowed whenever I attach someone in every story I know about it; she kept on drowning, anticipated on how deep the ocean is, every time his eyes fall in crescent"

once I was a waning crescent, pale and thin—incomplete
a silver sliver of light peeking unwanted in between the
folds of the velvet, midnight sky

and now, having gazed at my sun from a world away, I
am whole—I am full and complete—grand designs,
imperfections, craters—making me no less whole

when you are near it is not you that completes me,
but rather you who illuminates the parts of me I
thought were lost forever

the paradox that you both do and do not complete me
brings me as much comfort as the sun’s warm rays
on my cheeks and the moon’s cool gaze on my back.

Oh sunflower soul,  
You chase the daylight
Looking for hope in bright blues.

You tremble with the thought of a dark night,
But the stars have come out
amidst the navy blues.

A crescent moon becomes the silver lining,  
And a trail of streetlights twinkle like surface stars lighting your path as you walk toward

dreams you’ve been waiting to meet