conversations with the moon

by Lucas Torres

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As Daylight says goodbye

With the Sun now set,

Starts a soft sweet lullaby

Flowing from the crickets playing,

Their nightly quartet.

When nightfall arrives

Though the whole house is asleep,

Purring in their slumber

My energy still runs too deep.

Curiosity caresses me late at night

Causing my creeping into the kitchen,

Careful not to make a peep

So no one shall listen.

Tiptoeing through the dining hall,

Past the long table,

With only seating for ten

Still we seat more than able.

I stride through,

The living room that keeps close,

Not one, but two grandfather clocks

Both hands pointing to the 12,

Right on the dot.

As I slowly turn the golden handle,

Behind me carefully closing the door,

I leave behind a world

Of mere conversation and bore.

I stay the course,

Never wavering from my path,

Finally reaching that broad white gate

Leading to the great escape.

The chilly night greets me

With wide and open arms,

Followed by cheers all around

Whilst wind washes through the wisteria,

That sprouts from the ground.

I whisper up to the autumn sky,

Though it is covered

With a blanket of black,

At first, the moon is all too shy

To say anything back.

The stars surround one another,

Forming constellations galore.

Though clouds often block their radiance,

Of that one can be sure.

I stand on the forest floor,

My feet firmly planted.

Humming under my breath

A small short tune,

Simply staring above

At that midnight moon.

Looking at that special space rock

That was once part of this Earth,

Separated from here,

Millions of years ago.

Like a limb cut clean off

Or old hair chopped away,

The moon is alone

Like an island or cay.

Orbiting the earth

Forever remaining in exile,

Though the moon’s exile came first

Mine, too, has lasted a while.

I feel this loneliness all the time

And like with the moon,

I tell the wind

Sometimes the sea,

Never expecting a response,

Just for them to comfort me.

For no human on Earth,

No material item,

No being in this universe,

Could ever, has ever, will ever

Would ever, and forever,

Be able to ease this eternal pain.

It comes and goes,

Like the waves

And the rain.

There is no person in which I can confide

Who will heal my heart.

Nothing except for time,

Can show me the way

To change and restart.

So each month

There is one night,

When the full moon comes out,

She greets me with a smile of delight.

That is when I talk to the moon.

At her peak,

On that midnight

I wander from my front porch,

In true twilight

That is when we speak.

That is when we have

The most intense conversations,

Telling me about her envy of the sun

And I tell her of how I’ve come undone.

That is when we are laughing

Crying, sometimes screaming,

And overflowing with such empathy,

We are bursting and teeming.

That is when I find that the moon

She is a lot like me,

A sad, yet strong being,

Alone, but forever free.

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