Oh, Mother Moon
luminous source of sweet chance
make your fingers cymbal dance
so that tender drops of light drip
from your every fingertip
and every drop becomes a moon
that awakens me in my cocoon

Oh, Mother Moon
my solemn gloom I fail to fathom
guide me with your healing wisdom
turn your glow into a smile
and place it on my lips a while
so that melodies of frolic remote
flow like Siren’s songs from my throat

Oh, Mother Moon
timeless fountain of intuition
turn into a wand of vision
and strike my restive soul
so that from its burning coal
long due opus of my muse
be born of enlightening views

I praise you, Mother Moon
Goddess of metamorphosis
change your hazy nimbus
into sheets of pouring rain
to cleanse me from all my stain
so that I can trail your insight
and thus become your joyous light.

1997, Azadeh Azad