Lunar Incantation

The light is not its own, but caught and passed on to comfort a darkened world. It inhabits the lonely places and where absence has gone unhealed, becoming a summoner of dreams and visions as if seeking a form to manifest something of itself in the apparitions wandering human sleep, or in a memory that gently brushes the mind when still, or drifting far away, as the image of a mother's cooling hand caressing a child’s fevered brow, or comes upon the senses like a breath in the soft sweep of hair across the lips of a summers evening, when love, for a moment, has the power to make the soul believe it is not alone. And there too in a song surfacing in a few haunting notes that sets a longing loose to hear it all.