Strong yearnings came with cycles of the moon,
Some slivery, some full and shining bright–
I always wished that you would come home soon
Releasing me from the stern endless night.
My nights were all the same–cold, dark and lonely,
Sometimes with stars, still others dense and dry.
And every night I said aloud, “If only
he would come, the sun would fill the sky.”
But when you came the longing burned still stronger–
The hole intrinsic–nothing left to blame.
The night that once seemed long is even longer–
The bleakness of my being remains the same.
The hunger eats my spirit, still unabated,
I touch, I weep and I am still unsated.
Ruth Powers, copyright 2004