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Posts Tagged ‘moon’

 

 

amber moon rise—

the heart, as if seeing it for the first time,

gives a standing ovation

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They say you left your house just once

in your last fifteen years—

you slipped alone through veil of night

to see a new-built church.

And rumor says the moon was full

when you escaped your walls—

you had no need for candlelight,

the evening led you well.

Tonight round shines the Hunter’s moon—

so dazzling is the dome

that all the world feels like a church

and night itself a poem.

Perhaps that’s what you understood

and lost your need to leave—

each room, each place is holy

and has a gift to give.

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The snow was light and the moon was near full,

and the shovels skated across the drive.

 

The rest of the world was asleep

except for the shoveler and her shovels and the moon.

 

The snow was light and her thoughts were quiet,

quiet like leafless cottonwood trees

 

with branches that tangled with the forward moon.

There are nights when though we are alone

 

we are not alone,

nights when the darkness doesn’t seem so dark,

 

nights when our work feels not like work

and we step out of our homes, then out of ourselves,

 

and we are somehow unsurprised

by the way everything shines.

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One Stuck

 

 

I argue yes, no,

yes, no, yes, no, yes, meanwhile

the moon finds more light

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It appears still, the crescent moon,

but it’s moving at 2,288 miles per hour,

its light reaching us in less than two seconds.

 

This morning, we marvel at it, as if

we’d never seen moon before, its light

somehow touching us newly.

 

And though we are dashing down

the highway at fifty-eight miles per hour,

watching the moon, I feel something

 

in me quiet and still. Years ago, a friend told me

it was time to stop writing moon poems.

How to stop when each time

 

we see the moon, something new in us rises

to meet it? May we always write moon poems,

whether or not anyone reads them.

 

May we always marvel at the light

and shadow so far past our reach

and yet travelling with us

 

every day, every night. May it always feel

important, like hope, impossible to touch

and so real, so true.

 

 

 

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One Surrender

 

 

hijacked by the moon

my heart stops trying to know better

and lets the light drive

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One Confusion

 

 

full moon

in the rear view mirror—

I curse my hands

as they drive

the other direction

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staring at the moon

until it becomes a door

I walk through

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without a map

I row my small canoe—

a leash of moonlight

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One Blessing

 

 

 

open window—

in tiptoes the moon

to kiss me goodnight

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