Today, napowrimo.net thought that it would be funny to talk about how all the poets are in love with the moon… by asking us to write a poem about the moon.
I mean, hey, as a person who runs an Instagram page dedicated to the moon with her best friend (you can check it out here), I understand why we are so obsessed with the moon. Speaking of best friends, you can check out Kriti (Kittu’s Modern Mixtape) and Anupriya (Amour Infini)’s blogs for more wonderful poetry!
Happy reading, and don’t miss out on the endnotes to read more about the poem! Xx
I’m kissed awake
By the moon’s gentle light streaming on my face,
And yet again,
I find myself more aware than I’ll ever be
Of the hold that the moonlight has on me.
I wane with the moon,
Shrinking into myself with every dusk,
My aura flickering out,
Fading into the darkness as I watch—
My tides that were once calm,
It’s a rhythm that we dance to,
The moon and I,
Under the diamond starlight,
Dancing hand-in-hand through the night
Until there’s nothing left of us,
Until we watch the last of the light fade,
Until we’re one with the dark.
I sing to the moon,
Songs I would have once sung to different ears;
Several moons ago, perhaps,
I only watched as my only audience slipped away
Leaving my conversations one-sided,
My feelings unrequited,
Until there was only the moon—
Patiently humming in silver and golden notes,
Harmonizing with my melodies,
Until the air didn’t seem so cold,
Watching me walk my way back home,
Until I was no longer all alone,
Until I knew where I belonged.
I hide in the shadows like the moon,
On the days voices fill my ears,
Leaving my thoughts no room spared,
Empty faces around me that I pretend to hear
Slip away, tuned out like white noise,
Into drones and murmurs that disappear
With the gentle hums of the streaming moonlight,
Knocking at my window,
Almost beckoning me forth,
Arms spread wide,
Encasing me in its comforting embrace,
Until all I hear is the silence of the night,
Until all there’s left is this heart beating at a steady pace.
I grow with the moon,
Seeking out pieces of me that don’t fit,
But holding on to them, all the same,
Moulding, carving, chiselling away
At the sculpture that I’d someday leave behind—
It bears no likeness to me,
For I shape it in the image of the one I’d want to be,
The faraway image that I see myself growing into,
And I shall, perhaps, someday—
I grow and I crumble like the moon,
As I search for the place I belong,
Until the moon guides me to right where I am,
Right to the person I’ve been all along.
I realize I am the moon,
Tied to the gravity of the ones who hold me dear,
And bound to the places and hearts I call home,
I wax and wane with the tides,
I am, and I remain, one with the moon.
~© Shubhangi Srinivasan.
The moon affects the tides so much, it made me think about how the moon could possibly also affect people’s emotions. Personal growth is a messy thing and there are ups and downs that we all deal with at some point. As much as this poem is about the moon, it is also about finding that part of yourself that knows how messy growth can get. It’s about knowing that the pieces of you that you look for in places too far away from home have been with you all along. It’s about knowing that the truest version of yourself is always the one that you’ll find yourself going back to, at the end of the day. I hope you liked reading this poem!
The Shubhster! Xx