Moon Bathing

 Moon Bathing

Moon Bathing 

Last night,

on the eve of the summer solstice,

my sister, the Lady Moon,

came dancing down the sky

to bathe her pale white 

reflection in the round pool

upon the hill, in the dark woods,

before the old monastery,

while none but I watched.

Woken from sleep 

in the deep night,

I came to the window weary

and wondering why

I had been summoned

from the sacred steps 

leading to the gates of horn?

But now I gazed 

breathless, and

beheld the beauty of 

a land illumined, changed,

silvered by the waxing 

Moon looking lovingly

upon the hills, the trees, 

the waters. 

She, lending them her light,

itself a loan, though made her own,

mirrored and magical by mystic 

alchemy, now embraced the land 

and silvered and softened her in filigree

appearing like fishscale glinting 

up from some dark water’s wave.

I watched a while then, 

as across the silent land of night 

her white light walked, blessing 

all it touched with beauty unknown

to all the sleepers resting in their beds.

Until at last she found the old pool 

and seemed to rest there a while.

Playing in its fountained waters 

as falling drops became white diamonds,

she filled the pool with liquid light

charging the waters once again with love,

as by the light of grace 

a soul arises from 

the dark of spirit’s night

and finds again the 

gift of life appearing 

at the very darkest moment,

when all seems lost,

for mercy comes always, gentle 

as moonlight upon the waters, 

disturbing nothing, yet 

rendering all anew in beauty 

ready for Sun’s appearing.

Last night,

on the eve of the summer solstice

my sister, the Lady Moon,

came dancing down the sky

to bathe her pale white 

reflection in the round pool

upon the hill, in the dark woods,

before the old monastery,

while none but I watched

and I am ever grateful for 

the wonder of being woken,

for the blessing of it all.