Selenotropic
I love the sun.
It melts my muscles,
the morning glories revel
in its golden light.
It fathers the grass,
the grain, the oak.
But I, I grow
by silver, silent moonlight.
Its cycles guide the ebb
and flow of my blood.
The gentler light allows
reflection and I can see
without the glare.
Beneath the moon
I stretch my arms
to touch the stars.
Terri Simon
Tags:
Poetry