Clear Skies

The full moon has come,

But clouds float over her face - 

Allowing us only flashes of

Neon pearl light.

When we try to show our true selves,

Jealous shadows will crawl.

The moon isn't daunted by eclipsing wisps,

As dark as they are.

How do I find that self-assured gleam

Of the moon coming from my own skin?

Her immortal energy I lack -

How does she not tire of the tendrils

Crossing her vision?

Maybe what covers her serves her still -  

In the art of revealing more

Than clear skies ever could.

LJ Ireton