As the Moon is My Witness

Selene my silent sister

you were there that morning

dropping slow and weary

after a long night’s beaming

I noted your brilliance

in those last moments

before darkness descended

(though I knew not they were the last).

you beheld my downfall

in mute solidarity

accustomed as you are

to reflecting others’ light.

you were a touchstone, Luna

through the interminable months

I strained and contorted

climbed, risking censure

for a glimpse of your glowing orb.

I missed your presence

protracted gloom

those many moons

when I found you again

in harvest bleeding

I sat hours agog

penning amateur odes

awed by your lustrous veil.

unrestrained, I mark your phases

as I did mine own

honoring your fullness

with the fullness of my attention

above the trees, obscured

on the horizon

as I commute.

you rise, anon, Selene

gleaming, gleaning

shining light upon the lunacy

calling forth memory

glimmer and shimmer

harking back to havoc

shining forth

to halcyon revival