Luna

Where once a solitary sphere
Twisted through star-studded storms

There comes a foreign halo
Suddenly, irrevocably
Magnetized to my core

A softly dimpled, barren canvas
In orbit around its aqua emerald mama

You'll dance with me in revolving arcs
Until someday,

A shooting star will pull you out
to sea, to see 

And you'll soar away in the arms
Of a shimmering, glimmering captor

There, meteors will gravitate 
Into the rotation of your new home planet
Precious unidentified objects
Waiting to be known 


Written 4/3/13 & 9/18/14 {image: John Byam Liston Shaw for The Garden of Kama,1914}
I first started writing this when I was nursing Ishmael, and we were constantly tied to each other in a 2 to 3 hour radius. It's both beautiful and exhausting. Especially as the mother of sons, I know (rather, hope and pray) that someday they hear the siren call of the woman of their dreams, and each will leave my orbit as they are pulled in to hers forever (though I can't help qualifying this by saying they'll still always be mine in a sense!). And then they'll have their own children orbiting around them, and I can't wait...