It's late in the night of the Lover's Moon. But before I laid my head down in hopes of restful slumber, my prayer was a familiar one, one I've prayed thousands of times. And yet again, as I stirred from a restless sleep, I wandered to the window he once stood before, and I beheld the messenger of love's truth. Like love's remembrance, the moon waxes and wanes and still returns anew. Tonight, he shines his light on me and on the first blooms of Spring daffodils... And like the flowers pushing their way through the cold still earth, so too my remembrance of true love's first arrival comes bursting forth from the annals of my mind and stillness of my heart, remembering a day long ago, one that seems a lifetime ago. And as I gaze upon the moonlit sky, I wonder if he remembers...
"Lover's moon is high on the sky...143"
Stephen Christopher Harris
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