Lunar Flights of Fancy

Lunar flights of fancy come

before the orb is wane.

I think moon’s glow and other myths

are ideas I disdain.

Yet,

I think likely I will not,

with my face bathed in its light,

sleep much at all, though might I try

through this long, brisk night.

And though its blue glow pleases me

and my lids droop heavily,

my last conscious glimpse of it

shaped my dreams unaccountably.

I hit the ground running scared

in a nightmare-darkened scape,

with half-seen capes, and fangs, and knives;

no time to contemplate.

With finished fall and treacle ground,

I knew that I must fly,

but barely off the ground I’d get

no matter how I try.

Closer calls, I feel their breath,

as clouds are scudding past

the reddest moon, scarlet shades,

and shadows closing fast.

Pin prickles on my skin, they hurt

and ice is in my veins.

I’m ankle deep in golden ooze

as little time remains.

A single beam breaks through the trees.

Blue silver shows the way.

I tickle it with fingertips.

Escape? I just may.

A tiny gap ahead and up

where blue moon’s peeking through.

I close my eyes and let things go

I know what I must do.

Evil hands and lethal teeth

are piercing my soft skin.

They give rise, those things I despise,

and I know that I will win.

My blood is running down my back,

and foul breath’s on my face,

but I’m rising up, clear wings unfurled.

I will leave hurt in this space.

I follow along that tiny beam

through branches to skies clear.

No clouds, no rain, just moon and stars

and peace; I’m free of fear.

I don’t look back, my head held high,

and I breathe in scented air.

Weightless, formless, fearless, heart,

and I know I’m almost there.

But is this heaven beneath blue moon?

Paradise? Or so it seems.

Just one taste; is there more?

Lost to realms of dreams