Full Moon

Written by: Susan Buchel

Light plays 
across my soul
with the taunting touch of a lover
resting softly on places once dead
now unfolding, surprised
by color, texture, warmth

But then - gone
no, there, again, flitting
lighting yet another gray valley
arousing emotion
where none had existed,
or maybe had once
but learn-ed dullness
caused it to 
retreat
hide

Feathersoft,
erratic, even playful 
movements
my mind tries to
anticipate or follow
in vain
only able to allow
the play to 
entice, 
licking away
thin layers 
of doubt,
regret,
shame.

Spaces 
where only a “now”
blossoms - shyly first,
then emboldened
by each random
touch