The Tree, the Moon, and I

tales told different

If we have the nerve to look, we can see in any face, our own vulnerability.

Of love, is where it all begins.
And yet, Alas!
Of sorrow, is where we are all akin.

Up the whispering hill
Besides the Jasmine tree
A fragrance comes to me
Secrets no more

The moon and I commune
She tells me of the sun
I speak of you in turn
Hope rekindled

Of longing, moon knows best
Her soundtrack played by stars
And lonely wolves with scars
Close but too far

The Jasmine tree eavesdrops
Flowers dulled in sunlight
To glow for moon at night
Yet still, Unseen

Named the ‘Tree of Sadness’
Jealous yet so loyal
‘Queen of night’ so royal
No room for tears

And so we sigh as one
The tree, the moon, and I
Thinking, of how and why-
This love evades

Of Love, many have much to say

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