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The Eclipse
January 21, 2022
The night holds its breath.
It waits for a sign.
No leaf dares stir.
No cricket dares sing.
The shadows lie dormant
Full of life that watches.
A hushed stillness holds.
Patient. Breathless.
Suddenly, a moonbeam falls
Rusted silver on Batsheva's pool.
Silence.
The night bears witness.
It contemplates the copper light
That glints across the mirrored sky.
Was it the answer?
Or was it the question?
The night can’t decide.
© Sarah S., Poland Spring, ME
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This was written right after I took a walk with my family during the lunar eclipse a few months ago. It also has religious connections to my Jewish roots.