Mother Moon Poem by Gregory Crockatt

there i go quietly walking through the night
the air is crisp and a cool wind blows
i pull my parka tight around my shoulders
for although it is spring, winter does linger

the path i follow leads i know not where
though no matter what my destination
high up above me in the dark night sky
a maternal orb of silver light watches solemnly

all the luminescense which guides me is from her
and her child like companions the stars
her children seem to be on a long strenuous journey
for sometimes a few do fall, from the strain

i stop at a small sparsely vegetated clear
looking around to survey our resting place
my eyes wander to the trees and up to above
she is there with me and approves of this place

the hour is late as i setup my camp
tossing out my bedroll and setting spark to timber
as my fire burns bright the stars light dims
it is as if they shrink back from the flames in fear

so as i drift off into slumber, wonderful dreams
my thoughts go back over my time with her
restlessly i toss too and fro for a time
then i sleep comfortably beneath a midnight moon