Its Just a Phase

Image by Martin Adams at Unsplash

Something wakes me. There is this
scuffle from outside, and being
curious, naturally, I am human
after all, I pull at the curtain to see what is
making such a din and see a
faint moon scold the clouds like an unwelcome guest
as they try to muffle her above my house.

One star, Venus I believe, complains ‘every
night for the past week, up until morning
we’ve had this kerfuffle.’ The other stars wink a
while in agreement: ‘We’re waiting for a new
moon – the old girl’s fighting its arrival‘.

This is my response to Muri’s Poetry Scavenger Hunts Prompt No 5 (https://murisopsis.wordpress.com/2022/03/30/looking-forward-to-poetry-month/) – I have chosen to write a Golden Shovel (my first attempt). I have used the first two lines from ‘The Guest House’ by Rumi (Translated by Colman Barks).

‘This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.’

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