Monday, October 17, 2005

Harvest Moon





Harvest Moon

The moon rises
from the milky bed
of her own luminescence
golden sphere balanced
on the horizon.
I feel the magic of the world.

Harvest my thoughts, oh goddess.
Through the planting season,
beneath bright sun and midnight shade,
with tears and sweat
I laid them down.

Dormant seeds,
some gathered from last year’s crop,
some given,
clutched tightly in my damp palm
and then released,
arcing into the fertile dark loam
of memory.

They crept,
vining their way
across time, space and
my heart,
until I was covered with
green.

Goddess, come to light the harvest.
Thoughts crunch
beneath my feet,
turn to brown
as the circle closes.
The moon is round
and she rises.

5 Comments:

At 8:33 PM, Blogger Luna said...

Blessed be!

 
At 2:37 AM, Blogger faucon of Sakin'el said...

Reminds me of some of the work of the 'Romantics' a century ago and more -- and of my three thousand mile trip beneath the moon a couple of years ago -- just to be with Em -- to harvest a new life.

faucon

 
At 4:42 AM, Blogger le Enchanteur said...

This is just beautiful Karen. So evocative and I am enamoured with the idea of harvesting thoughts. Wonderful!

 
At 8:56 AM, Blogger Vi Jones said...

Just beautiful, Karen. I stood on our porch between rain showers last evening and watched the full moon rise from behind the mountain ... it was so beautiful. It brought tears to my eyes and a lump to my throat.

Vi

 
At 3:30 PM, Blogger Gail Kavanagh said...

A lovely song, Karen, that echoes hauntingly around the camp. Everyone pauses in their work to listen.

 

Post a Comment

<< Home