Eternal Moon

Eternal moon knows nothing new
she hears each wish and feels each sigh
and she brings me back to you

She summons a breeze upon her cue

to carry my kiss when your life goes awry

eternal moon knows nothing new

She knows our past, our future too
(she chuckled when we thought it goodbye)
and she brings me back to you

When you walk in doubt, she shines true
of a hold we cannot untie
eternal moon knows nothing new

Bathe in her light, allow love to renew
the mists of time do not apply
and she brings me back to you

Ever present, she follows through
symbol of my love, for you to view
eternal moon knows nothing new
and she brings me back to you.

©  Dahlia Ramone

     September 28, 2014

     (a Villanelle)

This was written for Blogophilia.

Blogophilia 32.7 Topic: The Mist of Time

Bonus Points:

(Hard, 2 pts):  Integrate a line from the poet Christina Rosetti

(Easy, 1 pt):  Incorporate a classical musical composer

(I did not include any bonus prompts)

Epiphany

Dawning comes on future’s tide
rushing back with certainty

on wings of truth dispensing light

purpose affirmed, my destined path                          
inherent trust, my only guide.

The inner conflict, long my steady

that battle waged of heart and mind

abruptly ceased, absolved of fight

no match against the waves of peace

now bathing my soul with clarity.

A revelation - not won by chance

but born of belief in destiny

that souls connect and hearts can fly

with strength to surpass any trials

your one constant – my unwavering stance.

The moon, our liaison, guiding above

bridging the miles, a reminder true

she is the key, to remembering me

for no matter the end, I’m tied to you

for no other reason, but to love.

 © Dahlia Ramone

     September, 2014

Whispers from the Valley of the Moon

In repose, the soul waits
sheltered, in the Valley of the Moon

Time is languid

insignificant to the outcome

of its own breath

for a die cast by Fate
doesn't roll again
and the inevitable will come

even as the moon sleeps

Earth and air

carry a love bare

flying true on a breeze

from the highest of stars

to the depths of the seas

Guided by instinct

whispers dance through the silken mist

not unlike promises of magic
and set the night aflutter

The moon awakens
and the soul stirs

senses heightened

as the familiar

touches down

It is their time

again.

© Dahlia Ramone
    September 6, 2014

Under the Telling Moon

Under the Telling Moon
the end is fast approaching.
The ceremonial trees take their cue
and their leaves begin to fall
like tears from up above.

Faced with the depletion of time,
wishes are returned for reassessment
as their holders cut their losses.
They must learn now to look for what is,
and not for what one thinks should be.
The Telling Moon has said as much
by way of the telltale whispers of silence
echoing around them.

Under the Telling Moon
unclaimed secrets are cashed out
for any remaining hope left in their pockets.
It’s an uneven rate of exchange
and they must now carry the burden
of secrets that never found a place to land.

An equal amount of angels
(guardians, as they were, of the hearts)
depart from the shadows of the holders
and rise to the sky in single file,
heads bowed under the weight
of the hearts they couldn’t keep from breaking
as they return to the Moon in failure.

For those on the eve of their reality
their pockets heavy with empty secrets
they knew if they hadn’t gone back
they would have been lost in limbo forever.
Secrets turn to water in their pockets and drain out
absolving them of their weight
and they move on.

They have no need to look back
They know how to do without
and will learn how to say goodbye.

As time folds onto itself
just before the last leaf falls
the Telling Moon has been retired.



 

© Dahlia Ramone 
    December 31, 2013