The Moon

The theremin gently whines

As she comes into view

Ever waning

Ever waxing

She draws you into her current

All the flickering stars

At home in her dark hair

Under her spell we conspire

By her beauty we desire

In her ruin we retire

From whence we came we shall all go

Adored for ages

Worshipped by man

Feeding the muses

Ensouling the world

Lighting the path and unveiling the truth

And hiding what needs to remain resting

Wired to transmit dreams

 It beams in the midnight hour

The circles around the moon

Expanding and pulsing

As the mediator at the crossroads

Holding the keys to the locked gates

Granting safe passage

If you can answer the sphinx’s riddle

And speak the words of night

And with that, she disappears again