Firefly

firefly wallpaper

I am a fleeting light
A momentary aura glowing in glance
Swirling and dancing in enchantment
Flowing in and out of a mirage of golden threads
Into the night of once upon a time.

Rivers run lightly as I waver in the wind
Weaving and fluttering through soft eruptions
That brilliantly wraps me in a cricket’s song
Of lyrical stance from another hemisphere.

Inhaling the fresh scent of honeysuckle
Whisper to me in sweet after taste
Like a liquid effervescent love.
I savor each drop upon my illuminating wings
And garnish its pattern in transformation.

I kiss the breath of enchanting air
Frolic in locks of your hair and your soft neck
Unearthing memories of light
For as long as it takes to absorb your absence.

I am unbinding of wrappings and restraints
In a creaturely world of recurrent habit.
With all creatures, I will tirelessly fade into the starless sky
For it is here you will glance at me in a shimmering evanescent
And know my liberation of impermanence in a starry night.

© Linda Moon

Traveler

Poppies by Alexandra Sophie via FlickrYou’re a distant traveler
With companions by your side
To coffee shops and bar room hops
In search for the mystified.

Where strangers become lovers
Where loneliness collides
By the holy and the guilty
Singing songs of the great divine.

With a smile you lure the ladies
Toss your hair back with one verse
A signal for the timid
A blessing for the cursed.

Your hands are running water
On the feathers of a dove
A forbidden fruit upon a tree
To gaze at from above.

Your heart is like a river
Winding in and out of stones
Your fingers on the trigger
As the world brings the unknown.

For me, oh, I’m just passing by
Collecting flowers for my hair
I rest under the shaded tree
And I smile to know you’re there.

It’s strange that you should notice
As you travel far and wide
And battle with your heart each day
In search for the mystified.

© Linda Moon

Speaking in Tongues

Peter Seminck Oil 2011 Painting Surrender

We create and define words
Revise the sensations to our deeds
Our hearts become silent painters
As our minds rumble and speak in tongue.

It wasn’t the wind, the fire or the rain
That aligned our comfort with such notions
But the chanting of the unknown
Declaring our freedom to speak
In some revelation of one’s own mind.

I would rather feel the warmth of your body
Than speak ten thousand words in tongue.
I would rather rest a mint upon your tongue
And let it slowly melt into your heart
Than to pronounce or define
The syllables of my love.

© Linda Moon