It is to the moon
that i write and sing and share this thought.
For myself and the moon only,
that i breathe and rejoice,
this mind.
Alert and in shouts of hysterical rage
I sing. It sings. Relentless.
Despite the deprivation of sleep
and the solitude it ultimately seeks.
Flitting open, moments of bubbles
and wonder fall across shores, and lines of open
unknown places, where we wander in free.