it was the kind of moon
that I would want to
send back to my ancestors
and gift to my descendants

so they know that I too,
have been bruised...by beauty.

poetry
melts my bones.
enters my blood.

and changes
its composition.

there are some poems
that we leave behind
some that leave us behind

while some just live
silently
in the heart

crumble, sometimes
dwindle
disappear
die

and are reborn
when you smile again.

a single poem
the thing that can keep me
light on my feet,
when my soul is
heavy with sorrow.

i want to be
in love with you

the same way
i am in
love with the moon

with the light
shining
out of its soul.

a silent night. - the most eloquent poem i have ever read.