I sit on the windowsill
and admire the silent sky
that is partially dark;
I listen to the crickets
that hide in the oak's massive branches...
doesn't it suggest suspense and melancholy?
How can the ivory moon of spring brighten my night
and dissipate every surly thought
that interferes with my contemplation?
It's my desire to feel and hear peace,
which in daytime is so immensely absent;
and unlikely nighttime, it only offers implausible allure.
No verses I will write tonight and begin dreaming...
instead, I'll look further into space and believe in creation evermore;
I'll hear Daniel's voice echo through its immeasurable vastness,
and perhaps the ivory moon of spring seeing my sadness
will brighten the gloomy night before stars vanish behind the blazing clouds.
Copyright © Andrew Crisci