The grace of the moon

I had never seen the  moon
as I hid  in my room
frost in my thoughts
in the night I was lost
under special circumstances
through the trees
between the leaves
someone looking for a pet
shot the moon with no regret
enjoying its trace
I learnt about its grace
I spy it now each day
when it grows or when it fades

The rose

scars support the rose,
the shadow or its essence
prevail on its pose?

Essential

a new day  a miracle

I go on 

watching life around

reborn  each day

no return

Lonely

your gift was lovely
a crystal swan black and white
for me the lonely