POETRY – MOONWASHED WEEKLY PROMPT – FOWC & RDP

Beneath a moon half-lost in thought,
Where trees remember what time forgot,
A glassbound world, alone, unmoved,
Rests on a stump by starlight proved.

The sphere it hums with silent ache,
A dream too bright for souls to wake.
Its castle floats on woven haze,
A ghost of long-forgotten days.

No foot has trod its cloudy halls,
No voice resounds against its walls.
It knows no flame, no feast, no war—
Just longing locked forevermore.

From the shadows, I feel their presence,
It keeps from entering.
It keeps from discovery.
Who are they?

A figure passes — swift, unseen,
A thread between what is and dream.
It doesn’t speak, it doesn’t stay,
But mourns what light cannot allay.

Within the orb, still skies suspend
A world that chose not to descend.
A world untouched by fear or alarm,
Yet haunted still by love’s disarm.

And I — I watch with anchored eyes,
As wonder folds into disguise.
Is this the cost of peace so pure—
To live untouched, yet feel unsure?

Perhaps the truest kind of grace
Is not escape, but facing place.
Yet still, I yearn to cross that line—
To walk the fog and call it mine.

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This poem is a part of a five-part series called The Forgotten Orb