“I touched the moon last night; a golden glow beyond my grasp. Eons before me it rested there. It will remain when I am dust. My hand now glows from the embrace. Voices echo through nights past, and with the glow, caress my face. My finger faints from what will last. Alone I am; alone secure; the moon will last when I am gone. A Master set it in its’ place, to move the tide, refresh the dawn. Unnumbered eyes have felt its rest; have looked upon reflected light. My heart is moved away from pain; I touched the moon last night.” LightPainMoonEmbraceAloneDustGlow Book:An owl on the moon: A journal from the edge of darkness Source: An owl on the moon: A journal from the edge of darkness
“I walk the sand alone, and feel it stirring as I roam, upon this breathing earth, where wave on wave begins new birth. I sense a grand facade, where colors paint the hand of God. And in remorseful pain, I dance the stones of bitter strain.” GodEarthPainBirthDanceAlone Book:An owl on the moon: A journal from the edge of darkness Source: An owl on the moon: A journal from the edge of darkness