A midnight moonbeam, streaming misty light
Like liquid pearl, is swirling in a pool
Upon her dampened cheek, its soft caress
Too weak and wan to wipe away her tears.
Her face aglow although her eyes are dull,
She gazes down upon a sleeping world
From high atop a monument of steel
And waits to watch the sun awake again.
But now in darkness and a grim despair,
Her heart cries slowly like her sparkling eyes,
Its pulsing sigh and hidden, lambent fires
Grown dim but not exhausted lest they die.
This world in slumber, how it makes her weep
And long to hold it in a long embrace!
Those bodies, billions though they be, call out
And plead her passion bring them life again!
Within the silent shadows, this she hears,
And in her separate darkness, this she sees,
Envisioning within her mind much more
And feeling in her belly every prayer.
The moon now smiles upon a falling star
As she descends to give the world a gift
Too great, yet delicate, to be possessed,
Its secret borne within her naked flesh.
Image credit: Jules Joseph Lefebvre, from Wikimedia Commons; public domain image.
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