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Owl to Moon.

Who? Letters to the moon.

By Novel AllenPublished about a year ago • 2 min read

Who...says Owl

~It's Me

Who -

~Me -

Ok. We can do this all night - laughs Owl

We both laugh together

~I have a letter for the Moon. Says Me

And why should that concern me - says Owl

~Oh, I was just wondering if you could fly it up to to Moon

~It is an urgent letter...

And, how do you normally send your strange moon-letters

~Why, I just release it to the wind and hope that it gets there

And do they usually arrive up there in a timely manner

For it seems a rather cavalier way to ensure the receipt of such a rather important communication

~I cannot be quite sure

And what is so urgent about this one that you need an emergency delivery

~Here you may read it and see

But the letter is blank

~Yes, that is the point - I have run out of words. Can you help me write one

I would be happy to...

Well, you may say:

🌒

Dear Moon of my ancestors🌒

Such serenity you offer. An embodiment of calm and peace.

Your aura glows with ancient grace - your face rich with earth-toned wisdom,

Your light is ever flowing like rivers of happy tears - stars nestle in the night around you in holy blessings.

You hold tranquility in your bosom, with a grandeur that resonates through every crater and aurora curl...

We, your children - are everywhere, remembering your light.

You, who speak in the tide's ebb and flow, not in minutes, seconds or hours...but infinitely

Dear Moon, whose wisdom is inscribed in the slow erosion of stone... and in the silver pause between dreams.

Do you remember the first laughter of the oceans,

the sorrow of stars that burned too brightly.

You - who has watched empires rise, splinter, fall and vanish.

Still you maintain the same quiet grace.

Your craters are ever being formed from our combined pain,

each hollow a story, each ridge a scar through the dance of time and longing.

You teach us with reflection - a mirror held to our souls when the world forgets its own shadow.

Those who listen , hear not words, but the pull of renewing. Of arriving.

You watch with the ache of transformation as storms rage in fury, as fires strike in flashes of lightning.

The beauty of our being flows to and fro like the motions of the ocean

Both existing side by side, light and dark aching to be still - to be whole.

Ten billion hearts you hear Resounding.

Thank you for always being a beacon of hope, as we stand in supplication beneath your constant glow.

I am but one - speaking for the collective.

Your awe-filled admirer.

N.

Thank you Owl, that was splendid. Have a good night.

Who?

Owl laughs, tucking the letter into his wings - waiting for delivery.

performance poetry

About the Creator

Novel Allen

Existing in mist and shadow. Neutrally Abstract.

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    Written by Novel Allen