Sunday, January 3, 2010

On the Wane

Reach a hand to the crescent moon
Grab hold of the hollow
If she sits in the palm of the left
That moon will be fuller tomorrow

If she sits in the palm of the right
That moon is on the wane
And the love of the one who shares your bed
Will be doing just the same

Won't you come with me, she said
There's plenty of room in my iron bed
You're looking cold and tired
And more than a little human

I know I'm not part of the life you had planned
But I think once your body feels my hand
Your mind will change
And your heart will lose its pain
Do I reach for you when I know you're on the wane?
Do I sense you when I know you're not around?

Do I search for you when I know you can't be found?

Do I dare to speak your name?
Raise your eye to the moonless sky
Try to wish upon a rising star
Search all you want for her blessings
But you won't find her sparkling there

Now cast your eyes to a part of the sky
Where nothing but darkness unfolds
And watch as all around you she reveals
The brilliance of secrets untold

("Crescent Moon," Cowboy Junkies)

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