A sliver of light appears as clouds do part
trailing its finger upon an exposed heart
beating secret words into works of art
once clutched to chest now bursting apart.
And so the words do form under the moon’s gaze,
like winds that swirl and billow in the haze.
This tender heart chases after its muse in a maze
seeking clarity even though it’s in a daze.
What madness lies then in the deepening night?
Shifted by the moon these thoughts do ignite.
cold at first but then they burn so bright
spreading like wildfire that has taken flight.
-©The Elusive Scribe 012914-