Quiet Liberation
By Don Iannone

Caught up in the beauty
of a full moon December night.
Miracles part the clouds,
heavy with august snow--
falling hard, and
drifting slow motion across soundless yards.
No lunar madness,
or catastrophic emotional tidal waves
sweeping hearts out to sea.
Only peace, and
an empty lingering sense of quiet liberation
rising in soul depths.
No urge to cry out,
like a moon-crazed wolf in the tall timbers.
Just undeniable primordial joy.