Moon-Bow

There is some grief in everything;  

even in the light. 

A time when darkness is shrouded  

by a hard glow silvery moon. 

A smile in the presence of the dead. 

Do we not feel a damp and subtle  

angst and dissuasive play of emotion;  

a simple collaboration with consent. 

Slowly eroding the fullness of the dark; 

light shines, with varied dappled-ness among the tears a mourning earth sheds. 

Light saturates our bones  

‘til gladness converts the pangs hidden behind  

a gallant exposure to erosion  

and all that seeks to wear us down. This simple tableaux of diminished energy  and satisfied passivity.

The moon gives itself to the river’s tears -  and darkness radiates immense and colorful  bliss.

from, BATHED IN ABRASION by, N. Thomas Johnson-Medland