I’ve never had an on/off relationship with the moon.
From cheshire cat smile to I think I’ll wax poetic a while,
my delight has never waned.
Her shine may be a mere reflection,
but oh how that glow
to easily avoid detection.
And obstreperous day doesn’t have much to say
But gives her due to the subtle gleam
of a lunar night light beam.
And not just one, but many,
these orbs that orbit,
satellites of love affairs
with oceans here and nowhere near.
And we, these children of earth
who came from sea so recently.
As a reminder of birth
We carry salt in our blood,
And on those nights we feel a pull
a rushing, like a flood,
It’s just the moon in her dark wisdom,
Even when bright eyed.
Reminding us to breathe
Just like the tide.
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