The Crescent Moon
In the first hour
Of the blushing twilight
When you come adorned
With the evening star,
As my first love,
O Crescent Moon!
Chained to your celestial beauty
I am a prisoner for life.
Like a sailboat caught
In the sea storm,
My heart loses control
In your turbulent moonshine.
But as you wax and grow
Like a bride's glow
I gaze and trip
On your bridal hemline,
And forget the meaning
Of love, true and sublime.
Is it a heavenly dance
In your nectarine drizzle,
Or a simmer till eternity
In your desire’s sizzle?
Or a half-waxed moon you bloom,
And pour from a half jar of wine
On my parched lips,
My life of half lies and half truth
Half promised, half delivered.
What does this teach me,
Do I relish the glass half full
Or cry over the glass half empty?
Don’t rise full moon bright
Tiding over surge of delight
With a pot of immortal love
Full to the brim and sublime.
An inept swimmer, I will drown
In your love’s fathomless sea.
Jealous world will reject our love’s glory
And justify only your blemish.
And then the dark cruel night
Will devour your beauty, bit by bit.
A moon bird awaiting you
Night after night,
I will stand broken and forlorn,
Swept away in my own tears’ stream.
Therefore, O beloved!
When you come again
Adorned with the evening star
Pure and pristine
Come as the first Crescent Moon,
As my first love,
In a fleeting moment of ecstasy
I shall live awhile
For one more night,
One more life.
Copyright © Nimai Swain | Year Posted 2021
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