Wednesday, October 18, 2017

THE MOON



How bright the moon
When its full smile beams
As if all is well
Like my hypocritical smile 
That reassures my grandkids
When I put them to bed
On moonless nights of gloom
When I can't see what I know is there
When I worry that the moon 
May reject the sun,
Give up, fall
Into that black abyss
Of grief
Because it clearly sees
Through its tears
The threats, the fears
Of this world's reflection

How bright the moon
To know
that from its darkness, 
soon
A sliver of new light will appear
Like the joy of my grandkid's morning
Reassurance that
Though all is not well
The moon and I will smile again
Sincerely


(For Poets United.)


15 comments:

  1. Ohhh. Breathless. Mid-poem, I feared the morning would not come, but there it is with smiles and sincerity. A very moving piece.

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  2. I hope that your smiles and sincerity continue. And rival the sun.

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  3. This speaks straight to my heart, Myrna, reassuring the grandkids so they can feel safe, even though we dont..........I have been struggling with what I call "earth grief" these days, it is so large I almost cant put it into words. I love the joy of your grandkids' mornings. Thank heaven for them!

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  4. The reassurance in this poem is excellent.

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  5. Love this swing from light, darkness and to light again. There's skipping of a heartbeat yet reassurance and light is there. Beautiful, Myrna, as always.

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  6. What a lovely mental journey this is ( guided by the moon).

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  7. Very touching and hopeful Beautiful Myrna

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  8. Though all is not well
    The moon and I will smile again
    Sincerely

    It provides the solace one craves for!

    Hank

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  9. Love the hopeful ending. May you find joy in the sliver of new light!

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  10. Such a beautifully poignant write, Myrna!❤️

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  11. It is really nice to reflect on the idea that both the moon and humans will find a way to smile again!

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  12. The joy and innocence of children in the morning is a sign of hope. Nice poem.

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  13. That image of the moon falling back into the abyss is so stark...

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  14. The dark and the light alternate beautifully in your poem, Myrna. The symbol of the waxing moon as growing hope for better times is hard to resist. Well penned!

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