PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

At dusk you can see

what lays dearly on the Moon

rising above the far horizon.

So magical.

From where one stands

the stars act as fruit

ripe to pick off the lightly darkened

countours of the sky,

something not mensurable.

Drawing nearer to the ocean's edge I leap.

I snatch one of my own

in rapid motion while I smile.

And, as a result, I dive,

like shooting stars that dimly sparkle.

I become part of the waves

to fall underneath the surface

with an aqueous wanting held on closely.

Spiral after spiral moving slowly

to the indefinite, taciturn bottom

will I breath the pure water.

This heart of mine churns sanguine songs.

I swim gently.

But isn't it beautiful?

I know that scathing tears heal

even though I'm cocooned

by tear-stained blue.

Closing these eyes

I can see effervescence

slip through my touch.

Underwater falling asleep

the tears of the Moon do fall

for a silent wish.