Daughter Of The Moon

Upon the riverbank, hidden between

The reeds, one could see

The full moon's reflection distorted

By the rippling of the ever-flowing,

Creating the mesmerizing shimmer

That lulls thoughts to sleep and leaves

The mind all but utterly empty.

Wait. Do not fall asleep. For the water

Will calm and show the moon, pristine.

And the daughter will appear.

Translucid she,

Will wade toward her mother

In gracious pace; her elegance stable

By the cold, and all that remains

In the covert silt.

She wades until that image she reaches,

That full moon now existing as

A bright burning disc.

She lets herself slowly sink in its center.

Then, there is silence

As the very wind gasps in suspense. No,

Neither skittering critter or bird nocturnal

Moves but the slightest. All is still.

So,

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the onlooker.

The witness, smitten

By the beauty of that time petrified river,

Beckoning all who claim self-awareness

To follow the daughter

Underwater.

Yet do not cast away your life so lightly,

Death is far too high a price for curiosity.

Resist. Wait.

Only prick up your ears.

And you might hear the ghostly whispers

Of the sage mother and her

Daughter, so rebellious.

“Have you yet learned

From the ever flowing river?”

“It is like me, afraid of the ocean,

Yet destined to return

Within its bosom.”

“Will you come home then?”

“No. I will swim upstream

Until I can no longer; I will drown, and

Drown again.

I will wait for he who is my own ocean.

For it is death, nor eternity that I fear, it is

The eternity spent without him.”