Poetry Video info.
Poem by Taymaz Valley
Read by Diana Harmon Garnand
New moon and I’m born through pain,
crying out as the light blinds any sight,
beginnings with meagre moments of delight,
clinching cherished flickers of fragile life.
Crescent peeking through the clouds,
I sit on the edge with my fishing rod
catching the stars that shine bright,
one by one to guide my vesseled heart.
Half-moon, half-mast for sadness,
Yet, never relents wonder of existence;
the tumultuous seas engulfs swallowing,
I endure it setting forth with prowess.
Gibbous, the moon lit hope stands tall,
for better or worse beckons with a song
the soul of the lost generation lost no more,
to be kind to one another and do no harm.
And finally full moon looks down smiling
knowing all too well it is time that dictates
our rhyme and reason, struggles fear defying,
not with a whimper but in peace it all ends.
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