moonstones
are some
of
my favorite
stones,
love
how they shimmer like
the
whitest moon sings in the sky;
and
their energy is always
healing
to
me—
carnelian
is lovely,
too,
but
there's just something
about
moonstone that always calls
to
me
like
a siren song;
i
want to adorn myself in a dress
made
of moonstones one day as i walk
by
the ocean shore,
and
the sun and moon can dance as an audience
for
my hymns as i sing my siren song
to
the universe—
a
poet wedded to the sea,
born
of the moon;
daughter
of the sun and sister
to
the clouds and crows alike.
do they long for the ocean?
i
wonder if the
moon
counts
all
of her stones,
if
she remembers how
each
one was formed;
i
wonder what secrets she
may
harbor in their
shells
&
if i will ever know
their
secrets—
i
am her daughter,
but
she can still be a mystery to me;
she
has taught me i am beautiful
in
all of my phases,
and
that i always shine even when
i
cannot see my light;
but
i wonder about her stones—
do
they long for the ocean
like
i do?
moonstone & flowers
i
want a flower crown
laced
with moonstones,
as
i walk beneath the
silvery
whisper
of
the moon at night;
listening
to the roar of the
ocean
as ghost crabs
scuttle
about trying to
avoid
the eager human hands
trying
to catch them—
i
want to be kissed underneath
this
silvery whisper
of
moonlight,
to
give the moon rocks of my love
which
have remained buried deep within
the
protective shells of my trust for years to
someone
who will appreciate their
beauty
and magic along with mine.
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