Moonlight Harvest

The harvest of the half-moon as it glows too bright,

In the midnight stream over the edges of the mountain,

It hovers over them silently as the night owl passes by,

Bend over the moon and glance till it shines,

The magical pelt that gives out all light,

Bouncing back on the moon for more,

As the summer sun rises no harvest will be taken place,

Only when the moon comes up with light,

In the dark aurora of air surrounds us,

All silent till the crickets chirp,

Wind blows on our ear,

And whispers for the moonlight harvest.

(By Sarah Shahzad, March 2021)