A Night with the Moon

The feral beings have their part with the moon.

All natures resides in its womb.

To be apart from the moon would be to be apart from the self.

Only the sane sit beneath the clouds.

The moon attaches to the wildest of hearts and shows its bearings in the sky.

It imprints its love in its light but all do not all do see.

Sometimes the shadow of a man does fall and then the moon searches for another.

It grabs hold of the reaching hand and echoes that soul to depthless below.

It begins it's mold. An awakening of sorts.

From the sliver of a slice to the rounding of it's bodice,

so too the journey of a life, of many lives.

Time spans and its work is complete. The sealed are unleashed.

The howling accompany its completion in celebration:

some in bleeding and others in love making.

Yet those who wonder are held dear.

When we last lose gaze then the moon shall we lose too.