Moonchild with the Sunny Eyes

Watching the night pass by the bus window,
A reminder of how bleak things can grow,
Under each lightbulb hangs a theatre of memories
And chaotic visions,
In the day we create, in the night we are created.

Here, where not one has fully let the light in,
We may believe that love saves but
Our many shades of love leave us wondering.

The distant piano drifts down from the dark and still house,
In it the lonely shiver of not knowing.
I saw the half gold moon fall past the crumbling concrete
And sleeping crows,
Felt the nervous stirring of the dreamers and the lost souls
Wrapped in blankets within their family of shadows.

Sins inflamed at the dead of night and yet
Somewhere, tucked away, we know there is singing
And dancing.

Innocence, we surrender beneath the arc of stars,
As the universe cycles through the spiralling fingers of trees,
Strength comes from knowing the lost and wandering,
Just another moonchild with the sun in their eyes.

So much of this becomes overgrown
As we all return to nature, rubbing ash over our bodies.
But looking into the night, the light inside tickles
And here I am, growing closer to dawn.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: