Wormy Goddess

The moon shook me from my sleep, Slid tendrils of silver shine through strategic cracks in shoddy blinds. Wispy fingers slither underneath my lids, Prying open already loose shutters. Early morning, when witches dance, hounds snore, And sleeping men are turned to darker corners, I am face full to the rays of reflected sun. Dim in his conversations with a full Luna,She tries to translate what I can't understand,With face scrunched and eyes wincing under a bright blue sky.In the solitude of my wakefulness, I can't help but greet her: Hello, good morning, Banging on my soul like there's a fire in the house in urgent warning.With how things have been going lately, I might as well be surrounded by flames. Wormy goddess, Slipping through windows in iridescent clothing. It's nice to see you so full after weeks of waxing and waning. Through example I've learned the intricate dancing Of when to let go and keep holding on. I still step on toes and trip on laces, But at least I can recognize when I'm in the presence of greatness. Slide through my window, push through my blinds, Knock on my lids,When the dance is mine. I'll be here waiting between the lines of slumber and divine.