Moonwards

The sun blazed high.

I looked to his power

for direction

and was blinded,

scorched until he danced,

a colourful myriad of inspirations,

even further from my reach,

into the sea.

I sat in the cool, soothing air,

listening to owls

telling their stories.

Night jasmine curled around gates

like children’s crowns woven

with white, fragile stars.

A hare leapt across a starlit field,

its tail bobbing like a tiny moon.

The gentle, round face of night’s queen,

simple, white and immense,

rose in the East.

Her light touched me

and did not burn.

I found my direction

suddenly,

under a bliss of stars,

dance moonwards.

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