A Sonnet To The Winter Moon
The winter months begin with this clear night.
November’s full moon radiates the sky
And touches rim to mountain rim with light
Through shadowed branches, followed by my eye
Awakened in its glow. That silent call
Of moonlit forests, ancient to one’s heart
As, too, it is on earth, comes over all
And with its power filled, I stand apart
From daily human life’s most turgid snares.
This moment turns all thinking towards the Mind
Of light within, and leaves one’s spirit bare
As these now leafless trees with light enshrined.
By wisdom purified of all that’s done,
I am with winter moonlight now made one.
by Ladybelle Fiske (Isabella F. McFarlin)
Written on a moonlit night in November some years ago. I woke up with the moon shining in the window and this poem arose, almost complete, in my mind.