Travelers Welcome

Travelers Welcome

Tuesday, May 7, 2013

Cycles of the Moon

by Tom Hatch   
Curved silver sliver up high
But not too far above the trees
Walking at dusk the moon
Calls for the young boy from his mother
To come out of the woods that has chilled the air
For him to come home for supper

Expanded behind the hazy sky
Further up above the trees
Lighter than the night before
The mother serves him dinner
By the fire as he stares out
The window at that growing moon

The scale of reflected light
Is a larger moon again
No relationship to the trees this night
His dog is sleeping soundly
At the foot of his bed as
The moon shines across his more exacting face

Getting bigger is the glow
The aftermath of time
Shows the young man how to be tall
In the shadow of the sharper moon
His thoughts of all mans dreams that are dreamt
Every night and his yet to be lived

The moons brightness is FULL
At the highest point in time
Hardly needing any light
She sits on the porch about his dreams
The kitchen empty full of memories
As his journey uses up his age

Waning tightens up on the phase
The man with his mother’s
Radiance of the moon
In his smile that leaves
Her thoughts of his returning
In the doorway of his life is it fulfilled?

The faded light whiling away her hours
Missing the sapling in the tall grass that became a tree
The moon is closer to the trees again she is staring
Where the woods had been and he had played
Where he was called for supper she calls his name
Again one more time… laughing only the stars come out

The vanished moon is gone from
This night’s sky making her star brighter
Than the night before looking out an ancient window
He has come back home from his and her dreams
To the mother’s voice that called
Him from the woods

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