Seems, I’m triggered

that giant sphere in the sky,

a midnight trance

sort of takes me over

the days before,

and when its vast nature

appears on a simple evening,

I feel the nature of love take over.

That’s when I want

I want to write those letters,

filled with romantic notions,

I can see why the

poets and lovers

wrote most of their lines

under the light of the

snow moon.

I feel compelled to write you

a note that might turn

into miles of thought,

those words that help define

my state of mind.

But I sometimes balk

and realize the audience

needs to be quieted by the reality

of such as might be the pain

of our lives,

how we all live inside

this shelter of fear.

We can’t really unleash

our passions

for fear of losing a grip

on why it is we

cannot share our feelings at all.

Instead I look at the page,

imagining the moon outside,

and I wonder if your eyes

are going to look,

will you check it out

and when you do,

will there be notions of love.

I think there will,

I think we are naturally human

in our instincts

our desire

our mystique

all those emotions

that drive our own wants

and needs,

those needs so easily define

the simple logic of our lives

while casting eyes upon the moon.