New moon

I see the shadow of a tall tree fading in the sunless sky.
I feel the aching of an old bruise healing, blue and black as night.

I will go, I will where the cold wind blows.
I will rise, I will rise when the new moon glows.

I feel the cadence of the breakers pounding me into the stone.
I hear the memory of an old love calling me to come back home.

I will go, I will where the cold wind blows.
I will rise, I will rise when the new moon glows .