Sky Queen

September 26, 2009

She is the moon
Reflecting her brother’s light,
Though no dimmer than he—
She does not blind with fire;
She soothes with smiles,
With moonlight-love.

She is the pangs of birth,
The cause for tides of fertility.
She is the cause, but it is not she,
She does not laugh at pain;
She tries to shield, to guide,
To soothe with caresses. 

Yet who looks to her?
In this world, who stops and gazes,
And warms themselves in her moonlight?
They should, but they do not,
And she grows distant and cold,
Sad as a broken star.

But shine on, glitter and dance again!
I smile for you, my Lady!
I take the time and I dance for you!
I whisper my thanks for all you have done–
And all that you continue to do.
The addict expecting birth and needing her fix;
You help her gently, pushing to focus her mind,
And realise what she is doing,
And you hold her as she cries.
The man who knows not how to care for his babe,
You come to him in dreams—
For night is when you shine best—
And you lay your hands upon his brow.
That is all he needs; and that is you.
Silver dashing through clouds,
Dancing over swollen waves –
That is you.
The scream of a newborn,
Or the party-hats of a child –
That is you.
The smiles of parents,
Kissing their babe for the first time –
That is you.
Sky Queen,
That is you.


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