When branches try to capture woes for moon
a year unwritten scribbles silver words of moon
It bleeds in melting snow — its sentences
unowned, these silent phases of the moon
Of rhythm independently – the woodwind
sing in syllables as soldiers of the moon.
The conductor waits with cobwebs past
as the curtain falls – interpreting the moon.
He needs to find the tune but not the beat,
as years may waltz, may swirl around the moon.
To find your path, for just a while look back
embrace your past, pursue it with the moon.
Its language is the silver caught in sieves
that’s spilled in waters — don’t unbear our moon.
Tonight it is Open Link Live at dVerse, and Sanaa hosts. I rewrote an old ghazal from a few years. Originally written as a new
years poem, and here is a song from my youth that can go with it,
November 11, 2021
Björn Rudbergs writings 
Haunting!
What a start..those first two lines that bring a whole new way of nature in words…can’t het them out of my mind…
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and that last line, not to unbear our moon….really…strong stuff…must be full moon around now actually, lending more pertinence…
So nice to hear from you again I hadn’t guessed you were Ain… I loved your haibun about your little squirrel… I think we are prisoners in one way or another, for many by choice but not everyone…
This is gorgeously worded, Bjorn! I especially admire; “Its language is the silver caught in sieves that’s spilled in waters.” Such a strong, palpable image. Thank you so much for sharing this gem at Open Link LIVE tonight 💝💝
This is beautiful–all those s sounds and the lovely flow. I particularly like the final couplet. I do enjoy the ghazal form.
Although we had a smaller turn-out today, it was very spirited, and the fellowship was intense; thanks. Your lunatic lines with Ghazal form set a mesmerizing rhythm. I could not determine the emotional timbre of the piece, sadness stirred not shaken, happiness heaving heads on high, eyes on the sky.
Ghazal’s one of my faves, and this one’s a meisterwork,, Bjorn.. I wish I could have joined today, but, um…nope. Love the concept of looking back to find your path. Salute!
“He needs to find the tune but not the beat, as years may waltz…” I loved this. Very nice turn of phrase there.
This is enchanting. So much moon love. I think it is the tune and the sun is the beat.
Lovely flow and visuals!
I especially like the second to last couplet. I would follow the moon anywhere. (K)
“soldiers of the moon” … I love this—especially with how it works with the closing image of the moon as a horse, representing a cavalry perhaps
This is beautiful, Bjorn. I enjoyed these lines,
“He needs to find the tune but not the beat,
as years may waltz, may swirl around the moon”
I’ve come to appreciate the moon and stars more as the nights draw in. ‘Its language is the silver caught in sieves
that’s spilled in waters’
– A perfect depiction of the way the moon speaks to us.
Lovely repetition of “the moon”. I loved the phrase “It bleeds in melting snow”, its so apt! 🙂
Can’t escape this lunula of poetry, but you sure can describe it. Excellent title.
That’s a beautiful, beautiful song, Björn. Maggie Reilly’s voice sounds ethereal.
And what a lovely ghazal! How can I not like a poem on moon.
This is incredibly beautiful.
The ghazal is a form I always find very difficult to write. This one flows well, and the repetition builds a picture of our shadowy sister that is as changeful as she is.
I especially like the closing stanza.
And the thought of a moon with a woodwind voice.
The woodwind soldiers of the moon is so exquisite. I love how there is a creation, a reaping and then an almost erasure. A cycle of writing in and of itself. Lovely, Björn.
Loved the rhythm!
A moon for all seasons…Beautiful Bjorn!
A most resplendent ghazal. I love this form 🙂