The full moon’s pale face holds sway,
over what, I fear to think.
That washed out, glowing orb
that dangles from an invisible thread
I was born on a full moon.
But I have also ridden its mad face,
run with what feverish shadows it creates.
Never knowing what might ambush me next.
Trying not to follow illusions,
for that is what moonshadows are.
Perhaps in the full light of day
the madness will wane.
Maybe the moon will die again.
And there will be no hidden agendas,
no secrets, no doubts, no fear, no turbid, churning, troubled
hearts, no sly mind’s whisper to break me.
The full moon cares not.
She is an elusive, ill-tended demon,
wrapped in a beckoning lie of innocence.
That hollow, haunting, mocking face one sees…
is not a man in the moon, oh no.
It is a woman. THE woman.
Dark Hecate, Lilith, Ischtar…
Lilitu, Lamaschtu, Lamia…
your hidden, unpredictable,
sinister side…has tried to capture me
Why dost thou plague me?
What insult have I given thee to stab at me so?
Your dark, malevolent revelations do naught
but hurt, drive this tempered blade of jet
deeper…into a mind that only sought love
and having found it, have I made thee jealous?
Have I wakened the temptress from slumber?
‘Twas not a challenge issued, Dark Goddess.
Though frightened, I have found my spark,
my courage, my faith.
Love will survive what tests you devise,
deem, plot and hurl in front of me.
It will stand firm in resolve to be
brought to fruition.
You will not stop it,
though you try.
There are times when I love the full moon.
But there are times when I sense the dangers,
when the darker, hidden voice of her speaks to me,
in broken glass filled whispers, unveiled threats of life.
And when threatened…I can do nothing
but continue to try to seek the light,
without fail. That will be the one thing
that shall save me.
Hic Amor Custodire. Amabo te.
~ C.L.R. ~ © 2004