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