The moon stoops low above her desert,
Saltflowers bloom in her lagoon, she's
Waiting, - tanning in transparent ice,
Flooded with blue, soft looming light -
She's the moonbather in her crystal cage
Who grows sweet wild grapes, on the
Quicksands by the maze - to lure the
Odd voyager to her glistening cave -
Do not try to move the heavy rock,
For under it a scorpion sheds a tear -
Its sting pointing upwards, it doesn't
Need a ring of fire to become a hero,
And where would she be, without you
Nomi Ben-David
