Under a tree, it's leaves rusting in the midnight breeze.
On a swing, dangling above the ground with the child in me.
Near the ocean, hypnotized by the waves casting salt in the air.
Counting the stars, infinity playing out before my eyes.
Loved by the moon, lighting my world in the darkest of times.
Mangata. Another new word for my love of the moon.
I never knew there was a word for my love of the moon. Ever faithful, beautifully glowing in the night even when darkness and shadows swallow the earth. The moon is lovely and comforting on every sleepless night.