An old poem.

I wrote this poem while I was still in college. After a bit of polishing, its still a bit rough around the edges, but aren't all diamonds from the rough? It shares a title (and some sentiment) with my novel.

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Youth of the Moon

We shall set our souls in line
And mine them with the moonbeams
That stream down to touch us--
And take silver strings of thought,
(From that dark-circled sender)
Leaving homespun silk for human hearts
And love’s crumbling quilt.
We imagine worlds where
Suns act like moons,
Light and soft, but without burning.
Our worlds slowly turn
Towards celestial Heavens
And towards the laden Hearts
Of our celestial brethren.
The moon shades us all,
(Pale mouth of the sky)
Shouting louder than stillness
And stifling the chilled night.
With our souls strong-willed,
We pour our passion together
Like spilt moonbeams--
For poets to touch and weave with.

22 October 2000