Art is amazing.
I’m not a big poet guy, but every once in a while I get these urges and feelings, and only poetry can do it justice. This I understand.
So for viewing pleasure I’m exposing myself for a bit to give my audience a piece of junk. It’s been written, and edited and peer reviewed. Obviously, it’s far from great, but I like it. I feel like it captures me.
There is a secret appointment tonight,
Between a boy and the moon.
Unbeknownst to others,
He runs away from home at the splash of darkness.
The seasons may determine how much they meet.
Bravery doth it take to challenge the nights of winters bite; in the
Summers warmth, the heart takes ease.
What is the purpose of this meeting?
So the moon can bestow the muse of art.
There, in it’s rays, the boy, open arms,
Shouts hidden verses:
Come lost song!”
Visions of astral houses are revealed.
Walls of shimmering energy,
Roofs of dragon scales.
Roads of cloud, beings of light.
The splendor of cosmic powers unveil
Those light beings, raising their hands, jump from place to place.
Some of them hold hands together,
Holes of strange dimensions surround them.
With a wave, stars sail across the sky, carrying their commanding hosts,
With clenched fist the ocean of dark carries the vessels closer to heaven.
Oh, the desire!
He stretches out his hands to grab hold
And climb the sky between he and his destination.
The moon says “not yet.”
***Okay, that’s my stuff. What do you think about it? I’m happy to hear your slander, comments, critiques. I can always use the refinement.***