Words Of An Idle Mind

The Girl On The Sidewalk (poem)

The night always felt serene,
And the stars always were bright,
But when she stood on the sidewalk,
She had the brightest light.

The street-lamps above her would dim away,  
As if she reflected their gleam,
But once she moved from under them,
Her light would turn murky, it seem.

Her hair was dark,
With kaleidoscopic stones everywhere.
Her dress was a rippling white,
With dancing spots here and there.

I always had an eye for her,
For she seemed to follow wherever i go,
One evening, when she came out as usual,
I brisked towards her and gave a bow.

'Oh fair lady, what a pleasure it is,
To get aquainted with you tonight!
Would i have the honour to know
The name of the lady of white light.'

I look up to gaze at her visage,
Only to be muddled by a thing very peculiar-
Her face constantly changed phases,
And sometimes blending with the darkness near.

'Thy Monsieur is very humble,
To call this lady fair.
I am named Luna Cresent,
Dusk - the beginning of my lair.'

'Not to be rude, but i need to ask,
But you don't seem to have the same face,
Is it a curse or an enchanted mask,
That keeps it changing in a haze?'

My perplexed look and curious voice,
Was found to be funny by her,
I was captivated by her halo,
As she doubles over in laughter.

'Oh dear, my my,
How innocent it is to ask this, alas.
That why does the master of changes in this world,
Keep on changing his mask!'

Her words peeked my eagerness,
To unmask the facade of the lady.
But she interjected,' Dont mistake me,
But you need to hold your horses steady.

I am no fair lady,
For i thrive in the night.
And i only reflect whatever
Around me that reeks light.

If you see me dark and gloomy,
You see yourself reflected,
If you see my waxing and waning halo,
You see yourself reflected.

I must get going,
The dusk ends my rein here,
But i will return, with a part of my power,
To guide you through your darkest fear.'

'Lady Luna, i will dare to believe,
That even if in phases, i will see you after twilight,
Pity not me, who knows not your grace,
But those, who see but not understand your light.'

With a final curtsy, she turned around,
Hiding behind the higher cloud's curtain,
And i stood there, somber, awaiting dawn,
For only at it's end would i see her for certain.