First Sphere of Heaven

Sometimes a full circle,
sometimes a crescent shape
the moon waxes and wanes.

Kneeling before my presence
you vowed to be steadfast
in our sacred chamber bed.

Your soul, though not reflections,
is a cloud that hovers in the heavens
first cumulus, then stratus
changing shape from moment to moment.

Constance was pulled from the cloister
she never let the veil fall from her heart.

O moon, come back to my arms,
O cloud, hug me once more
let warm or light embrace us
in Nature’s will,
we'll find peace and tranquility.