It’s a Full Moon and perhaps that is why
I stumble upon my own feet.
Perhaps that is also why
I can not seem to make sense
Of the words we are speaking.
It’s all buried beneath
My clouded mind and
The wild flapping of wings in my stomach.
I want something to blame
For this erratic behavior of forgotten manners
But is it not fair
That I, too, shall be free to open my heart,
When my mind is tired
And my body slows down
And I am free from the walls I hide behind
Exhausted of pretending I understand
I turn to the Moon and receive all I need
A reminder, we all plant our own seeds.