Moonsoul

This is metaphorical. Perhaps if we felt more deeply the impact left behind, as we move in and out of relationships, of any kind — maybe we would conduct ourselves differently.

 

This day
I come upon a stranger
standing by the road
looking sad

heavy box held in her arms
clutched close to her breast

she stares into my eyes
expressionless

her gaze stops me still
fixes me in place

her face
tired and drawn
any light in her eyes
is gone

I draw close enough to see
a vague familiarity

she lifts her eyes to mine
and deeply sighs

before you ask
I am sworn
a sorrowful task
a collector of tears
shed in moonlight
tears caused by one
who‘s not contrite
guilty of love’s betrayal
who’s inflicted painful strife
and staggering sorrow
into another’s broken life

she concludes
and offers out her hands
that open on the box

filled with apprehension
I reach and grasp the case
lift it cautiously from her grip
lower it to my feet
gently as I place

opening it slowly
hesitant and tense
to reveal its strange contents

a small dull crescent moon shape
suspended in a most beautiful
dark cerulean jar

mute with wonder
I behold
staring into the beautiful blue
haunted as I do

this is yours
she explains
it is the moonsoul
of the loversmoon
under which you fell in love
and under which again
you later broke your lover’s heart

she continues

every moon casts its spell
quite differently
this special loversmoon
belonged to you and she
but now this loversmoon has died

I am the shadow
of your lover’s sorrows
I will be gone tomorrow
but this night
I visit you

I collected this moonsoul
long ago
the night you broke her heart

kept in this jar of cerulean blue
I present it now to you
for you see
your lover’s soul
has passed on
she is gone
she need no longer carry
this heavy burden

she was a technicolor
wish-upon big-eyed dreamer
when first you met her
but she was cry-alone
stay-at-home broken
when you turned and left her

you are guilty
of the death
of the love you shared
snuffed by your cheating ways
now you must carry this moonsoul
until your end of days

her words fall heavy upon me
bring tears to my eyes
as I realize
the burden of this moonsoul
is mine beyond the grave
there is no one who can save
me from this awful plight
a pain that’s mine by right

eyes lowered in fatigue
forlornly
she sighs
and gently cries

it was on a moonlit night
like this
the painful burden
of this moonsoul
was set upon her broken heart
I have carried it
since she passed
but for too long

it’s now come to you
at last

looking into my eyes
as though my dark soul she can see
she points accusingly at me

you must now atone
for your destructive lies
for your lover’s broken heart

it is written
in the fool’s book of sorrows
what were her yesterdays
will now be your tomorrows

now you must bend and lift
and clutch this burden to your breast
to struggle with its weight
to feel its sad unrest

you now understand
what was your abandoned lover’s fate
your debt can no longer wait
the guilt that surrounds this moonsoul
the guilt you’ve avoided ‘til tonight
is now brought into the light

karma has caught up with you
as eventually it does
for the hurtful things we do

you slowly slayed
your special loversmoon
those times you were untrue

your lover’s been set free
now this guilt and sorrow
passes on to you
where certainly it should be
it’s now you must feel sad
and deeply sorry too

*
rob kistner © 2022

Poetry at: The Sunday Muse

 

16 thoughts on “Moonsoul”

  1. These reach deep into their respective stories and limn the sadness left in the wake of chasing after something (anything?) more/better/different than what you have. The confrontations of choice can hurt.

    1. This is metaphorically representative Chrissa. Too many people move in and out of relationships, no matter what the nature is, without any thought to what impact they leave in the wake of that relationship. Perhaps if people could feel more deeply the impact they leave behind, maybe people would conduct themselves differently.

  2. No second chance for a “B” like him. I relate to this, Rob, liked it a lot. I was in your lass’s place, she fell for a student’s line.
    Second marriage was skeptical for me, that finally ended and wev’e been married 49 years now.
    ..

  3. to struggle with its weight
    to feel its sad unrest

    Love this assertion Rob! How true it is! One will eventually be in a situation defensive in nature that it might have a hold so strong to affect life itself!

    Hank

    1. Thank you much Helen. I got drawn in, as the image prompts unfolded this tale for me — couldn’t stop ‘til I reached the end. Also Helen, again, I am so sorry for the loss of Bev. I will miss her too. She had a vital creative spirit.

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