I Hope Tonight

When the moon whispers
Belladona, dance,
lighting her with its slightest touch,
even if the wind is barely there,
still a smallest of breezes may breathe 
small gusts at odd moments, to stir her spirits
and numb the moon, watching, pleased, relieved,
steadfast until morning when it sleeps again.

Then the moon dreams
I sip her, this champagne of mine,
four billion years gone by,
in seasons when the Belladonna blooms,
her soft white silent bells, sweet inebriate,
soundless blossoms shake again for me
to see, palest of the nighttime flowers,
solemn Nightshade, how you can quiet me millions of midnights,
set my eyes to a pleasingly soft gaze,
pulse slower the short breath of my desperate thoughts,
my fears of how the past lets me slip away as I go down,
so much future that could continue on without me if time chose,
the end of my traveling through this place
or the place never traveling through me again,
my dread you will always help me to kill,
as nightly I hope to see my Belladonna’s silent dance,
choose you to toast away the darkest hours before dawn with me,
and stem this forever fear I have
of one day never rising again.

Then the moon awakes
to another new night,
and walks the darkness to the dawn
in hopes the Belladonna
will bloom to dance with it again
and stem its fears.

* * * * *

Today’s #WritingPrompt is


Happy #WriterFriday. Use the prompt to inspire a piece of writing, and then post that piece as a comment below. I would love to read it : )

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