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Half Moon
November 1, 2015
There is a part of me that craves the wild,
that longs to be tangled in the knots of the world.
Part of me needs to drink the soul of the earth
and get drunk on the sweet syrup of it's soil.
I want to get lost in the infinite corners of the world;
I want to be the sand in our mother’s eye;
I want to be the crystal tear rolling down her wrinkled cheek.
The mist that dances down the mountains has waltzed into my mind
and I have become addicted to the swing of it’s hips
and without the sweet promise it’s of rhythm,
I am only another dream lost upon a lucid lover.
© Elizabeth H., San Bernardino, CA
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