Poem -
just...one...time...
perchance I do not see at all
my eyes perhaps not here enthralled
or perchance I understand the need
to reach it... just...one... time...
tis a solitude that free's us all
to reach up when a moon doth rise
to reach up to her mystery glow
for each soul knows it...
moon is wise
perchance I'm here at the river's
home
think you, willow tree, that you are
not known
and it may be so.. I don't see at all
how you raise one branch
high to moon's soft call
M P 10/10/22
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Comments
There is something of an otherworldly feel to this — as if the willow and the moon come alive at night and each of them knows the other's secrets. And of course it is not only the willow and the moon there are other things in the moonlight justcas magical and the moon knows them all for the moon is wise. I love this poem x
I do the that the air changes when darkness falls outside...don't you? There is something strangely different about the world Tina...every secret and answer floating in the air...unfortunately all in a language mortals cannot decipher. Thankyou my friend xx
Yes! It is a different world at night. You can even feel it in centre of London! All that hustle bustle, the people, the lights — through it all hangs that 'magic' so it has nothing to do with everyone being in bed asleep. The magic in the night is there regardless xx