Full Moon

Late at night, and outside
nothing sleeps.

The moon is full.
A fox tiptoes past the house
and up into the quarry.
A single coyote yips,
it’s nighttime lament echoing
off the rock walls.
Something else, vague and large
is crashing through the woods.

Your night has been a restless one,
full of dreams and thoughts into dark places,
strange dreams
with no basis in reality, and yet somehow
still disturbing.

It is good to be awake,
to see what is there and what is not,
to banish the dreams
and start again.

Soon you will crawl back into your bed,
and hope for one last burst of sleep
before dawn. You will dream again,
but this time with a clearer head,
the demons banished
at least for now,
and love rising in them
like Venus from the sea.

About this poem. 

It is almost 3AM as I write this. There is a full moon outside tonight. And I’ve been dreaming like a crazy man. A perfect time to write poetry.

Tom