Moonlight Man Within
──⊱❉⊰ ──
Through the velvet stretch of night,
the moon hangs, a luminous orb,
casting its glow upon dreams,
inviting us to seek the man within.
──⊱❉⊰ ──
Eyes turned skyward,
children and elders alike,
transported by bright beams,
each wondering,
what stories dwell in that celestial visage?
──⊱❉⊰ ──
He gazes back,
a silent fixture in the firmament,
his face shaped by shadows,
a cosmic canvas painted in solitude.
──⊱❉⊰ ──
Ancient stories of legends rise,
a tale of giants, heavenly realms,
and yet he remains, detached,
watching generations turn
under the sightless gaze of stars.
──⊱❉⊰ ──
We tilt our heads,
straining to capture his secrets,
the smile he guards,
mischief and mystery wrapped tight
in the blanket of night’s embrace.
──⊱❉⊰ ──
On nights when clouds scuttle by,
the man retreats into haze,
and still the hearts below ache,
longing for his return,
the beacon, the guide on this endless journey.
──⊱❉⊰ ──
With each lunar phase,
a new face emerges,
stories recast in light and shadow,
and we, forever dreamers,
look up and wonder once more.
About the Creator
Tim Carmichael
I am an Appalachian poet and cookbook author. I write about rural life, family, and the places I grew up around. My poetry and essays have appeared in Beautiful and Brutal Things, My latest book. Check it out on Amazon
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Babbling Dixie
The short form of tomorrow is never the whole story. Abbreviations mean nothing when we are born to die and we all are aren't we? Being spoken for before birth is something we're not supposed to remember like some kind of karma after effect. Still here we are spending our lives looking for each other.
By Canuck Scriber Lisa Lachapelle5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
This is so soft and luminous. Beautiful work.
Beautifully done!