Luna

“Luna”

Moon-painted water –
A million tides of black evening silk
Speckled with salty white and moaning with
The deepest of blues

I am upon the edge, or rather I am the brink
The hair’s breadth, the heart’s beat
My voice, thought, dream awakens the seas
And yet water is heartless, soulless…cold.

If only I could in this way recall a lover
Or milk-glass Sunday afternoons
(Seen through a haze of grey clouds like lost feathers)
The white light of the morning after

Oh, sweet adoring arms encompassing
My world where even night is filled
With bright starry fire:
Will you not come away awhile?

Be beckoned from my memory
Return to me, return to me
I ever loved a shadow-man and yet
One can’t hold a shadow’s hand.

Sighing selahs, a peaceful gnawing
Of deep-sea teeth and moonbeams –
Like oil in water, flecks of light
Return with every evening’s tide, and cannot fade.