I awake and expect the moon to be as silent as always,
floating calmly between the clouds,
but tonight she instead,
has fire in her eyes,
has painted the flowers violet,
slashed them with scarlet shadows,
fire and blood.
She is laughing with the silver crickets,
hair all over the sky,
cheeks full, bellowing,
sharing her secrets with everyone except me.
All I can find are echoes.
The clock can no longer tell me the time,
or time has just given up, stopped all together,
but I think it must be summer, spring at least.
I am pretty sure it is time to burn my clothing,
dance around the fire.
This may even be the full May moon.
When I join the parade of moths lightning up the night,
they tell me the sky is a cloak of ember wings.
The moon is laughing at our pride,
stars astonished by our insignificance.
Dawn is out there somewhere,
probably getting closer to the horizon.
My hair is all over the sky, a lure for moths.
trying to tell me, in which direction the waking world lies in wait.
But, I cannot understand,
so, I will just dance here for a while,
or encircle the laughing moon,
enticing her to tell me her secrets,
until the clock, decides, to go back to work.
Valeria Castellanos – 2003