There hung a moon in the ceiling of clouds
Hidden from view
Silver hues of grey filtering barely through
Seeking to sit a spell with an audience
Of one
And I drifted over, pushing aside the misty shapes
To make room on the seat of a craggy rock,
And I slid into a waking dream,
I was moving on dark waters searching for round orbs,
Pucks perhaps that held magic
And I watched the comings and goings of the strangers around me,
If nothing else but to see how the game was played,
What the goal of finding these pucks meant.
The different colors meant different things
And I would grab one up
Only to find disappointment,
It wasn’t working,
Not like it was for the others,
So I stopped and thought surely, there must be a trick to this,
To gathering the right ones,
And so I watched to see which ones in particular were being picked up
And it seemed to me the lighter smaller pucks were the ones,
The others merely decoys,
And with a light heart I gingerly picked a shining luminescent white and rippled blue one,
The one that spoke to me the most,
And I looked up with the widest smile
And realized I was amongst the stars,
Behind the curtain of clouds
Hanging amongst the most beautiful shining lights
And I laughed aloud
And a sound like twinkling crystal filled the air.
It was a beautiful moment and I knew then,
To truly find the magic
Certain things needed to be done.
The darkest night of greys and black needed to be let go,
That I needed to seek out that divine light,
That I had to feel the purity in a heart
That had sat silent too long,
That had forgotten the magic
Of the piece of stars gathered
And wished upon with love.
Gearing back into writing mode with a jump start after reading the lovely poetry of a friend. Needing to Embrace the magic once more on this full moon Christmas Eve.
Beautiful art found at Janewatsonart.com
Peace, Love and Patchouli 