Song of the Temple of the Moon

Hush . . .
For the earth breathes out
An exhalation of dreams
Mauve and mallow in the moonlight

Sighing in it’s sleep,
The world becomes
It’s own iridescent illusion
Murmuring mother-of-pearl
Whispering shadowed silver
Breath of burnt roses
Ashes of roses
A shiver of roses
Hush . . .

Will we glisten down from the moon,
On the liquid west wind of midnight?
We are the dust of diamonds,
The sparkling, scattered breath of stars,
Effervescent, scintillating
We alight and are softly spellbound
Translated in the mulberry moonglow
We shudder shimmering
In a flash of flesh, blood hammering in sudden ears

Against the cool, pink veined marble floor
Sounds the enthralling, enchanted drumming
Of feet

We come to this place
Glittering, under the floating boat
Of a wet, crescent moon
We come here to worship
We come in adoration
We come exalting

We come here to
Dance


©Edwina Peterson Cross