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.