Moonlight And Solitude Poem by ashok jadhav

The moon pours silver on the sleeping land,
A quiet gift no asking heart can earn;
Shadows grow long where lonely thoughts still stand,
And every wound grows honest in its turn.
The world is hushed—no footsteps, breath, or cry,
Only the pulse of night within my chest;
I lift my eyes to that unbroken sky,
And feel my restless spirit come to rest.
In moonlight's care, no mask is left to wear,
Each thought moves slow, unafraid to be seen;
Solitude hums like prayer upon the air,
Soft as the space between what was and been.
So held by light that asks for nothing more,
I learn alone is not a wound, but door.