Joel 2: 31:
''And the sun shall be turned into darkness,
and the moon into blood''
_________________
Colours of 'stil de graine' clothing Moon
passing 'cross the Earths Northern Lights
comets dance vociferously by the Archer
pointing his arrow at the cherry lit sky.
The approachment, stage one, a prism,
paragon, peerless, otensibly permeable-
to the eyes of astronomical entities,
the passing, opaque, still as death;
planetary metamorphosis from white
to blood red...An Eclipse? Not tonight!
The spark of the pomp soon abrogates,
as Father Galaxy takes staff in hand,
running it through the stratus clouds,
purging its mauve rimmed moonscape;
torrents of rain attempting to blight and-
obscure the event from each vantage point.
Mother Nature is awakened by this,
knows the rays of the Sun have spoken,
penetrating the Moon with arrogance;
and she swears to the celestial gods-
that revenge for this shalt not come soon,
but, will she swears to the orbs above
on the nascence of the next lunar cycle,
on the passing of the next Blood Moon.
FjR-MMXV
*Revised 07-10-17
Reposted 07-16-17
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem