waxing and waning

Crescent Moon and Venus 8-2012

Up before wrensong,
the crescent moon and I whisper
so as not to wake the day.

She in her nightgown and I in mine,
we sit on the porch
in the cool air of early dawn.

And she listens.

I tell her of my fears-
numbering my inadequacies,
trembling in my regret,
tears flow freely
as the early morning dew.

With her sweet comforting smile,
she tells of her birth –
new moon to slim crescent,
waxing to full, rounded glory
to only wane past gibbous
into the palest slip of light
to be welcomed into the dark womb
of restful night.

Waxing and waning,
we each sigh
as the dawning sun
and the wren greet the day.

27 thoughts on “waxing and waning

  1. I like the imagery of having that conversation with the moon ~ Waxing and waning, we all go through our seasons of life ~ Enjoyed this one Kathleen ~

  2. smiles…what comfort to slip into that dark womb, becoming small…
    i like the link you make between us and the moon as well…
    i love to look at her…and the new day can become
    such a relief…

  3. This poem reminds me of a lifetime ago when I was young and worked the night shift, we would work like crazy and finish our work at about 3:30 AM and go up to the top floor of the building, climb up through a little stair to the roof of the datacenter and sit, each lunch and watch the empty city and all its lights.

    • It has been so hot the past week, the only nice time of day to sit on the porch is before daybreak – the cooler air rises up from the lake and we have our coffee with the morning star and wait for the first birdsong – smiles – K

  4. I really like this. I am sure many have such conversations with the moon, as she is such a good listener. I like that you each sigh when the sun dawns, but I am sure the depthful conversation will continue another day.

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