O! Moon’s so full –
I could say it is an orgasm
of light
or the white climax of a line
that in its beginning
meets its end
or it is a tearless eye
that cannot close
its dark and heavy lid.
I could say it is a dead planet
thrust deep in our throats
but you might choke on that.
How about a window
through which we are beheld,
in which we see a shadow of ourselves:
look how, night after night,
the moon slowly pieces itself together
until, weeks later – and then briefly –
it is whole again,
as if it finally finds the answer
to an old, disturbing question
only to lose it
down the well of darkness
from which it came.
I think this is the only poem from my first chapbook “Stealing Eternity” that I haven’t yet posted on the blog.
I am back from a nourishing month on our coastal waterways, my favourite season upon us now – a time of great release and vibrant ripening. Autumnal blessings to all!
Lynne Burnett 
You are an impeccable observer and translator of nature!
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Oh, thank you, Stephanie!
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Outstanding!
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Thank you so much!
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You’re very welcome! Beautiful poetry!
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This might be my favorite ever moon metaphor:
… a window
through which we are beheld,
in which we see a shadow of ourselves …
Thanks for posting this one!
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I’m so glad it resonated with you, Jazz! Thank you – from one moon maiden to another.
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“or the white climax of a line / that in its beginning / meets its end”
captures, so well, the cycle that has so much power over our lives.
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Thank you very much, Ken!
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“look how, night after night,
the moon slowly pieces itself together
until, weeks later – and then briefly –
it is whole again,
as if it finally finds the answer
to an old, disturbing question”
Sublime!
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Thank you so much!🙏
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