Ode to the Howling Moon

What is it about the moon that holds me so?
Sparks my innards and touches the soul?
Deep in the wilds as a jaguar I did growl
And ran with wind, free to howl.

I feel kinship to this silver orb shining in the inky sky.
It boils the blood and makes me itch to fly
On backs of dragons. Or Unicorns. Or broomsticks
As a black cat on the end who hisses and spits.

Orange, with purple and red swirls.
Heavenly light so close to the earth.
This be my calling. My purpose for birth.
For a Howling Moon its been said
Frees the spirits and redeems the dead.

A Howling Moon so beautiful it bubbles the blood
Makes me stand in its magic light so full.
So powerful, I surrender to its pull
To draw the circle, cast the spell
And write the story that only I, Bethany Ann can tell.

Daughter of the Howling Moon
Coming soon from Pen-L Publishing