
Moon Shimmers
Dancing with the Elders
The moon drifts overhead, like a dancer led in a nightly round about the sky.
Sinuous threads of light twine through the pines to tickle the world below with her glow, cast from eternity.
Her image ripples across the surface of the pond, flickering, multiplying, into a myriad of swimming moons which settle with the waters, mothers and daughters dancing, with the elders until they unify as one.
I am undone by her beauty, her antiquity, her ubiquitous presence, which has lent itself to affairs of the heart from the start of time.
How many declarations have been spoken under the light of the moon?
How many lovers have swooned at her glow in their beloved’s eyes, or at the wash of her embrace over naked thighs or bosoms or fingers entwined in the night?
She takes unabashed delight in affairs of the heart.
My gaze skips across the waters, now trembling with the breeze.
Unity has given way once again to infinity.
And the moon dances in multiple realities which linger in the memories of the One.
I hope you enjoyed my moon musings. You might also like:
Poem and photo by Erika Burkhalter. All rights reserved.






