Your gateway to endless inspiration
Feeble though sweet
light pours
over the immense meadow
expanding in my eyes,
unmoved by the night sky
thundering upon it.
The moon is to follow its own instincts
navigating the ocean of endlessness
not hiding in itself,
but with a open-heart
bleeding and scarred
and cold.
It is not a bringer of sadness.
It is a reflection of reality.
Not the one we’re living in,
yet both our senses
and mind
are touched by it,
as if it were no more a caress
than it is a warning.
Lonely moon,
and lonely woman,
not to be found in rationality
but in the inexistence of both
the self and the ego.