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 