A Desert Tale

She fell on me with all her light,
A coolness descended on the desert night,
I gazed at her pale countenance,
Her indifference against my smouldering obstinance.

Night watched as they battled; silent and eager,
An age had passed, with activity meagre,
He understood Moon scarce,
Time relates, distant and without farce.
Wind came and woke the resting sand,
It slipped and rose, renewing the land,
Her toes slipped into its grainy embrace,
Night wondered at her impassioned face.

I watched as my rage faltered,
Her demeanor in victory unaltered,
Envy in my heart, rose to greet,
Unfazed patience on her cloudy seat.
I was made like the glowering sun,
Restless madness in my blood does run,
I seek the cool warmth of the shimmering moon,
Like a howling wolf out on the cliff; a lonely loon.

Night heard the silent conversation pass,
A tear glistened like dew on a blade of grass,
She shivered, dropping her message of sorrow,
It fell and darkened the grains into pits shallow.
Her anger was a mask she often wore,
Guarding her thoughts of disappointment and woe.
She envied Moon her place in His design,
Not one could throw an abuse or put out His mighty sign.
She lights the path for His free willed lot,
Pacing in ellipses to serve us about,
Yet, She was willed and she does remember,
His mercy, His command and His splendour.