“There is a tide in the affairs of men,” ― William Shakespeare , Julius Caesar

The moon is an outline of your face
during
midnight musings
as though time spinning
backwards
and emotion bursting forward like tea rose,
there is a tide
in the affairs of soul
a rising blush unfettered by clouds,
but who would be the one to unravel it’s message
as mysticism begs the direct passage of heart,
February,
a slow dance that gestures to the swirl of wind
where I did not hesitate
to unburden

all that was going through my mind,
so don’t tell me
what if the moon disappeared?
I’d rather the ground beneath me shattered
and swallowed up the pain.

 

 

Photo credits: Rebloggy

Posted for Weekend Mini-Challenge @ Real Toads