Goodbye, Moon

I watched a hand emerge from the clouds -

mangled, gray, and greedy.

Slender, whispy fingers stretched towards the Moon.

Slowly, I watched the hand close,

eclipsing Luna in shadows,

clutching all Her light

in its blackened,

gaunt palm -

just as a wretched child

might clasp a firefly.

I wondered if the Darkness

that had compelled the cloud

to snatch that great beauty

directly from Her post

in the starry sky,

would peer through

cracking foggy fingers

to glimpse Her

bouncing around madly,

desperate to break free from this somber appendage.

My breath quickened.

My mind raced.

Was this Goodbye, Moon?

For years I had been saying “Goodnight,”

aloof, ungrateful, and unaware

that the Moon

might vanish.

Would wolves still howl in her absence?

Would waves crash motionless?

Or would the ocean sit still,

anxious and agonizing?

Would the magic her moonbeams had carried fade away?

Would I ever smile up at the night sky again, content in her radiance?

How long would the Darkness make me hold my breath?

“Leaden, dreading heart...

Let go.

What cannot be seen

is not gone.

Wolves will howl.

Waves will break.

Magic will not wane.

We will bask in each other again.

Remember my light in

this interim.

It will be brighter upon my return.

Oh leaden, dreading heart...

I am not gone.”

I sighed.

And the cloud let go, too.