Hunter's Moon

"It's futile to guard against the light,
For it only unleashes what is in the heart,
Whether it's good or evil, it's only part
Of the dark beauty of the pale moonlight."

From Brain Stemmed Roses...

Hunter's Moon

This poem was written just as it happened, waking in the middle of a June night to find that, "This was indeed a spectral night, where one could freely walk and converse with ghosts... (Lunacy follows the full moon with spectral hosts...) Trying to sleep is futile tonight... "

Yes, I have my ghosts and there are many sleepless nights when they come to visit and we spend a melancholy night together...

Fortunately, they are not angry or vengeful phantoms. Rather, they are reminders of sad lessons learned. Often from my youth when trust was given and betrayed.

Acknowledging it, I am free to forgive and proceed without a need for vengeance or anger.

I have also touched the face of madness, tracing its' outline as a blind man might familiarize himself with the face of a newfound lover.

Perhaps I have escaped with my sanity intact, but I have not been left unaffected...

>^.\/.^< Karl Stuart Kline

Hunter’s Moon (From 6/4/2001 – 01:25 AM)

by Karl Stuart Kline

I woke up suddenly tonight
I hadn’t moved from where I’d lain to sleep...
I’d been exhausted and slept so deep,
But I woke to see my windows bright

I quietly moved to the pane
And I could see my yard as if it were daylight
Even though it was still very near to midnight.
It truly was very strange...

To see the world swathed in moonlight...
Unbidden, the thought shot into my brain
From some predatory place where it had lain,
“My God! It’s a Hunters’ Moon tonight!”

The world was lit to favor stalkers
For nothing could be hidden from their sight
And on this beautifully lit June night
The world belongs to ghostly walkers...

I shivered with eerie delight
To see the world before me so brightly lit...
I moved to the door and stepped out into it,
To stand bathed in that bright moonlight

So I savored this contemplation
As I stepped out into that nocturnal light
Contemplating another Age when I might
Have sallied forth on this occasion...

Stalking game in a strangely lit night,
Going forth with flintlock, bow or spear in hand,
Venturing to hunt as a predatory man,
Taking advantage of bright moonlight.

This was indeed a spectral night
Where one could freely walk and converse with ghosts...
Lunacy follows the full moon with spectral hosts...
Trying to sleep is futile tonight...

In truth, the moon is full two days hence,
A time when Lunacy and crime prowl the night
And “righteous” folk lock their doors in fright
To ward against Evils’ influence.

It’s futile to guard against the light
For it only unleashes what is in the heart,
Whether it’s good or evil, it’s only part
Of the dark beauty of the pale moonlight.

"It's futile to guard against the light,For it only unleashes what is in the heart,Whether it's good or evil, it's only partOf the dark beauty of the pale moonlight." From Brain Stemmed Roses...

"It's futile to guard against the light,
For it only unleashes what is in the heart,
Whether it's good or evil, it's only part
Of the dark beauty of the pale moonlight."

From Brain Stemmed Roses...