The Full Moon

We stopped at the top of the hill
And watched in silence as the sun slipped down
Leaving behind an orange and red trail in the sky
And exploding all around in a soft warm glow.
Silence apart from the plaintive mooing
of the cows down below.
Finally the sun disappeared from our view
To rise gloriously in another time and place.
Lost in our own thoughts and contemplation
We turn 180 degrees and wait,
Expectantly, listening, looking, wondering….
And then suddenly, quietly with no fuss
She emerges – peeping over the top of the hill
And gracefully gliding,
skirting the tops of the trees
And breaking free as she dances and shimmers
In the darkening sky.
Even the passing clouds cannot mask the beauty
Of her luminous glow.
We watched entranced
Deep in thanksgiving and reverence
For the beauty of the moment
And then returning back home
Filled with gratitude and awe
Connected by the shared embrace of the sun and the moon
We enter again into the song of the crickets and birds
Proclaiming the end of another day

Mary Deane