The phases of the moon
remind me of a story told...
Shedding light on a script with
a beginning, middle, and an end
as phrases ignite and blend
Enduring a myriad of seasons...
as a crescent slice fades and dims
Without prodding… begins to grow;
flooding to the brim it slowly spills...
once again its radiance is fulfilled
Moonlight transitions are a catalyst
for nocturnal thoughts… penned
upon the turning pages of a book
with endless chapters that overlap
from cover to cover… front to back
3/13/2012
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem