Becoming Sun and Moon

Listen to Becoming Sun and Moon by Richard Charles Stevens

Listen to Walking On The Moon by The Police

As I gaze out at the incandescent moon
Amazed at the bouquet of its crescent silhouette
Draped across the dunes like a swooning marionette
Gracefully apace amidst a maze of pirouette
I ponder how much longer I can wander into yonder
Prolong the one tradition seen to lean to intuition ever present in my dreams when gone too soon

The incandescent moon is strewn through each lagoon my eyes consume
Its rich perfume a heady brew of meadow rue in petit bleu
Fireflies in ready queue to drop behind venetian blinds
Beat the rush for morning dew and pore into the fleshy fruit with promptitude before first prompt of daylight

The moon delights in pompous flight
Midst winds that clamour flawless night
Silent stammer spotless white
Grammar lost in solemn rite
This view not an uncommon sight
For herein it believes the puzzle lies
Will not see the buds arise
For all it sees is polarized
Through jaded eyes the summer dies
The moment sun vacates the skies
Snowblind to the reason it confides upon the earth
Devising ways to lessen our admiring gaze, impress upon our blindest faith to bind us to the very skin we pine within in tidal waves of suffering encouraging the dearth

Meanwhile, the sun picks its spot to parade
It is going to be a liberating day
Brimming its fulfilling light while all those less inclined lounge in the shade
Burning ever brightly either way
The incandescent moon shall soon resume alluring masquerade
Assuring of mystique as it proceeds to lead its sweet charade
With blessing of the mellow rays of daylight in successive reign
For every night bleeds into day
And every light conceives of shade
Trustees to seamless incandescent rays
At peace as there need be no other way
I gaze out at the crescent moon
Smile sweetly and with timeless grace
And then proceed to simply walk away
To find a spot serene to lounge in shade

As I gaze out at the incandescent moon
Amazed at the bouquet of its crescent silhouette
Draped across the dunes like a swooning marionette
Gracefully apace amidst a maze of pirouette
I ponder how much longer I can wander into yonder
Prolong the one tradition seen to lean to intuition ever present in my dreams when gone too soon

Meanwhile, the sun picks its spot to parade
It is going to be a liberating day
Brimming its fulfilling light while all those less inclined lounge in the shade
Burning ever brightly either way

Richard Charles Stevens

Keeper of The Crimson Quill

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