Pink Full Moon

The tide moves slowly in and out, A silken breath, a whispered doubt. The moon, from white to tender pink, Dips low to touch the ocean's brink. Moist stretching sands, a quiet ache, The earth and sky begin to wake. Eyes that open wide, yet cannot see, A death like this I've longed to see. The silver night, its soft embrace, Reflects no shadow, leaves no trace. A life dissolved in endless streams, A soul adrift in quiet dreams. No cry of anguish, no despair, Just moonlit tides that kiss the air. To fade as stars dissolve in light, A gentle passing into night. Oh, let me go as waters flow, Unbound, unseen, to realms unknown. The moon turns pink, then pale, then white, Its beauty waning with the night. A death so soft, a love so true, The tide moves on, as tides must do. And I, a whisper, lost, set free— A death like this I drempt, I see in sleep.