A Bewitching Interlude That Crescendos Like Raindrops Falling From The Sun

If,
under the harvest moon,
I held you softly,
and kissed
all the parts of you
that were left jagged
and bewildered by the harsh edges of
life's slings and arrows,
would you return the glint of starlight
from your eyes to mine?
 
Would you understand
that the way the clouds
drift toward us as our hearts beat in unison,
is the same way the sun rises
and puts to bed the shadows of night?
 
Your wild heart
speaks to mine,
in the language
of my homeland,
and I can feel the cadence
of the starry sky in the enchanting vista
painted by your sultry voice.