moonbeams dance on the edge of shadows,
their silver glow echoes in forgotten dreams
and cavernous silence, as I walk this
winding path surrounded by whispering trees.

fingers long for touch, tracing contours in the air.
walls of the mind, painted in hues of
the unspoken. Is it memory? or
fragments of a tale told by the moon?

phantoms of past, lingering in visible
ah, but where do they go
when light fades, leaving only
shadows to recall the echo?

listen, the wind howls
secrets of the night
unravel like threads beyond reach,
each step a note in a forgotten song
would be easier if only I could feel

steps marked on sand, chased
by waves I cannot touch, but
there they are – those
fleeting ripples, those other footsteps
leading where? sunlight
held captive by cliffs of
evening shadows, they talk to the
horizon and I, a note lost in
this unrelenting symphony.