Licking of the Wounds
I recline in gentleness
to view the harvest moon
rising in a Maxfield Parrish sky
My heart, my soul
floods with feelings of longing
that the daylight hours
deny.
A restless sadness, a discontent
that beauty often musters
A gentle breeze, a gleaming moon
the stars dazzling in clusters
I reach and grasp at memories
of such joy
shared and cherished
wondering where I was
or who I was
when those tender feelings
perished.
The morning finds me weary,
whether tears shed or suppressed,
once my heart is battled open
my mind allows me little rest.
The sunshine cascades across the floor,
The day beckons me to begin
I plunge my face back into the pillow
pushing my longing back within.
I slip out of bed and into my mask
my subtle smile of acceptance
I’ll embrace the day and find my way
Beauty swathed in loneliness
has become my daily penance.
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