Some nights the sky is luminaria;
An elusive mirror, that quiet moon.
Snap, crackle, pop, stars “play” – plumeria --
The wind whispers, shadows sigh, lunar hewn.
Moonlight’s apt to cultivate euphoria,
But as I walk I prefer thinking strewn
By the moon’s essence – sanginaria
It’s the silence though, night’s saloon, attune…
I cherish this staging area.
(Perhaps I should include Tsuki-Yomi in my prayers.)