The artist moon is calling The one that makes the blood restless And the mind discontent The one that replaces sleep With lightning storms of inspiration The moon raises the spirit of dreams unrealized And fantasies unlived It whispers of wild woods and scented winds Of primal needs and elaborate, lucid dreams I am held captive in the moon's tides Ebbing and flowing as I map my own constellations in its sky And so my mind churns My pen moves Channeling the lightning into art Painting the moon's energy with barely adequate words In a desperate attempt to contain the results of its demanding influence -gws
Words Wishes and Wisdom 