Rising: A story-poem

Before retiring, she looked out the window

Only to see a bright white silvery moon rising

Over the dark waters of the river

Creating silvery essence on the water


Snuggling down into linens, covers, pillows

She soon and swiftly drifted off to sleep

She awoke a few hours later

The silvery full moon had moved so swiftly over the still river


Not sure if she was dreaming or awake

She glided down the stairs, out the door, across the dewy-deep grass

And down toward the water

Her skin glistened with silver light in the cool night air.


Down by the river, she reached out to touch a moon beam

It was reflecting on the water, and she thought

If only I could touch it, the light of the moon would move through me

I would be healed and I would know….


To her surprise, the moon beam reflection felt solid and strong

She stood up and placed her toe on the light, and then her foot

And soon she was moving lightly across the moon beams

Gazing at her feet on the beams and the moon up above


And finding herself soon under the moon

She raised her arms up toward the moon, the brightest light

During that dark and cool night

And she embraced the moon, wrapping her arms around it


The moon obliged her, bringing her up to its heavenly heights

Filling her full of healing silvery light

Showing to her some of the secrets of the world

As they slowly made their way toward the West, through the night.



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