Beacon of Amber

On a cool, October evening, just upon the cusp of twilight,
before the stars made their nocturnal debut,
I glanced up at the sapphire sky
and my eyes became immediately transfixed
upon a fiery, golden ball that was the Moon.

She glowed with a brilliant orange hue
and shadowy etches upon her surface,
as though a Hallowe'en jack-o-lantern
were rising silently, eerily
from behind a veil of charcoal clouds.

An immense, glowing orb of amber
emitting a soft, velvety glow
which exuded through the fragile wisps of clouds,
that were carried gently by silent breaths of wind
across the burning expanse of western horizon.

The great Luna, princess of the stars and constellations,
you wear a new face each night that you emerge
from your sleep.
But this night, as we surpass the autumnal equinox
why do you stand so large and proud and powerful?

Sages and star gazers have studied you over the ages,
and have imparted upon you many attributes,
of being prophetic and menacing,
or benign and romantic...
a guiding light bestowed upon you by brother Sun.

Tonight, as I am rudely jarred back into consciousness,
I only see the amazing, breath-taking beauty
of that enigmatic, distant harvest moon
that floats flamboyantly among the stars,
and draws my eyes and soul upwards ...
towards the heavens.

Poem by Mena Arruda/Desdemona2

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