Full Moon

With my feet on the Earth,  I stand in the silver light of your radiance.

Wrapped in wool against the cold night.

We watch one another.  And we tell each other stories.

Then comes the plane.  With the trail.  To cover your face.

I will not tell the story of hate.  I will not tell the story of fear or frustration.

Instead I tell the story of the Tuatha de Danaan.

And I watch you glow brighter with the telling.

And your light burns through the plume and it dissolves back into the fabric it was dreamed from.

We go on with our story telling.  And I wash my cold hands and face in your silver beams.

I love you, dear One.

♥ ♥ ♥