Full Moon Marches

an original poem by Karen Jaynes

Oh, what a night to behold and now to be told

As the third month marches

Carried by the winds of change across the mountain range

I sit in stillness as you swirl beautiful verses through my soul’s branches

My mind 

My heart 

And the moon in this night I bathe in her light. 

She is in all her glory as I tell this story, as I too sit with her in kind. 

Her full goddess roundness touching mine. 

As the scene is framed 

around the window of my room like a landscape painting tamed 

on a canvas by Bob Ross...

You Toss. 

Gently in bed resting your numbers-filled head,

I hear you breathe 

In

Out

Without a doubt this brings me peace

You read to me 

And drifted off 

And out 

Without ceasing, the winds increasing power by the hour

as my thoughts move quickly on to page

A crescendo of nature’s rage 

of light, 

Sound and song fill my being

for ever and how long I stay awake. 

The windows quake. 

For to miss this moment with all said upon it,

in the slumber of unknowing would surely be

a loss in my growing, flowing desire to be

Here with you 

Now.

In your light

On my face

My body in pure form wrapped like a gift in a blanket and warm

In your sight

From your face

My heart in pure form wrapped in words like a blanket and warm

Oh, what a night to behold 

I am told.