in the pulse of the moon
nothing became an orphan
i am happy
when the sunlight makes me feel like turning inside out
this dawn
seed pods were knighted
petal capes curled.
The spider’s treasure
was crowned in dew,
entangled
in precariously woven threads, caught up
in a feather heavy map of heaven.
and in that blue hour,
hushed before
leaves rustle
in a gossip with the skies,
my heart lifted
the soul purred,
harmony found a haven,
boundaries were softened
shadows knelt in gentle prayer,
silence obeyed the pulse
of the moon
and nothing,
and nobody was left
to become an orphan
