Harvest Moon

Somewhere between a Harvest Moon

And an Empty, Dark Space

I blindly stumbled into my destiny.

My soul uncontrollably bellows out

“this is right”—

It is meant to be.

But a fraction of me is frightened

To invite someone inside of my

Special, Private Place.

A place not free of sorrow and

despair, but familiar.

How does the heart know

It is safe to trust again?

Is it acceptable to feel again?

Will the newly-arrived and

satisfying flutters inside of me be

nurtured this time?

Or are they present only to

Build castles in air?

The thoughts of emptiness plague

me like a deadly virus waiting to take

its next victim by surprise.

Am I steady enough

To profit the risk,

Hoping and believing

One last time.

Shall I believe the Wise Moon,

Planets and the Stars?

Or shall I choose the Empty, Dark Space

Which has become

My Unwanted Companion?

Somewhere between The Harvest Moon

And an

Empty, Dark Space,

I stumbled into Life.