The moon is my mother

Lucina, laboring like a white star, your face
Of white flesh, your ancient father grey-bearded,
Weary, cold and planetary; I am separated
From you both, the earth door is quiet.

In despair, I live here, abandoned— a dark crime,
Soberly resurrected, bending like field grass,
Their mild eyes, tender in a wafted breeze. I have
Fallen a long way, white palms, no labor reddens.

Mother, you see nothing of this— you are not sweet
Like Mary. Her hands of holiness lift me from the
Cold pews of your silence. The clouds of darkness
Are flowering blue and mystical over your moon face.

Copyright © 04/03/2019 lance sheridan®

The moon is my mother

27 comments on “The moon is my mother

  1. Oh Lance, this is beautiful to me for so many reasons that are impossible for me to explain right now! I’m so glad to know you! 🙂

  2. A far and heartless family home from which we dream to be adopted… we dream. Perhaps it’s best to stay asleep at night.

    This is very powerful.

  3. These lines are sensational.

    Cold pews of your silence. The clouds of darkness
Are flowering blue and mystical over your moon face.

    No superlative I can think of adequately describes the beauty of this. I actually audibly sighed when I read it, and when I reread it. So moved by this poem.

  4. Chiru says:

    So beautiful and sensitive..

  5. lampmagician says:

    Reblogged this on lampmagician and commented:
    Lucina the Mother Moon ❤🙏

  6. lampmagician says:

    A wonderful Moon it’s; Lucina

  7. Sonal P Deo says:

    Every human must have felt this emotion while looking at the moon at least once in the lifetime 🙂 You have beautifully described that longing.

  8. mylilplace says:

    Your words never fail to captivate, Lance. Thank you for this amazing ride into your imagination.

  9. Your poetry is inspiring. Deep and touching.

  10. You puts words so beautiful

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