While everyone sleeps
I slip out into the night
and deeply breathe
the lilac air
I gaze at the crescent moon
worried at heart
begging
needing more time
Not one of us
escapes her pull
as she labors through phases
to bestow her faithful beauty
The lunar cradle
connects me to every tide and tremor
every person
lost and found
(Photo by Timothy Price used with permission)
THE WOUND THAT HEALS 
There is a profound, ancient feeling of being alive at night, and surrounded by moonlight. “The lunar cradle connects me to every tide…..” I especially appreciated the scent of lilacs which indicates a spring night, full of vibrant life.
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Thank you, Rebecca!
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This is so beautiful, my dear Mary Jo, treasuring the meditative silence of the night. 🙏
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Thank you, Marina!
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It did take time to chance discover you, a lady of beautiful words. It seem that everything of worth does indeed take time. Nice to meet you thru your words,
Mary Jo Malo. I shall now indeed be reading more …!
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I’m grateful for your kind words! Our mutual friend, Rebecca Budd, has that rare gift of creating connections no matter the time.
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Indeed she has and thankfully so, for the serendipity that we the recipients fortunately benefit!
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Beautiful poem. The photo you have is excellent, but you are welcome to use my photo.
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Thank you Timothy! I’d much rather use photos from my fellow bloggers.
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You’re welcome. I agree it’s better to use photos by fellow bloggers.
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Smooth and powerful, at the same time. 💙
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I’m happy you picked up on the quiet desperation for more. Thank you, Filipa!
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