Whispers of the Moon

The moon spills silver secrets

onto the trembling palms of night,

its glow a shy lover’s breath,

tracing shadows on the skin of the earth.

Trees bow in solemn reverence,

their whispers a hymn to eternity,

leaves fluttering like untamed prayers,

lost between the crevices of starlight.

The wind, a restless wanderer,

carries stories of forgotten seas,

where waves kissed the shore’s cheeks

and vanished like promises.

Time limps through the meadow,

its footsteps soft as regret,

while dreams coil in the corners of the sky,

yearning to unspool their broken wings.

Tell me, is it the night’s sorrow we hear?

Or the laughter of dawn waiting to be born?

© Bunguswa.™