As Randy mentioned in his post, during the Grace Jones show, we had a special treat. A super moon lunar eclipse! That experience alone, inspired me to post this poem.
In the last few months, I’ve picked up my fickle pen again to see if I could complete a poem. After having not written much since college, this may not be polished work, but I’d like to share it with you all. Almost as if it was meant to be, I began writing it on a New moon, and completed it on the following New moon. I had no plans to do this, it just turned out that way.
At the Grace Jones show that Sunday night, September 27th, we would see the moon go through all of her phases in a few hours. Metaphorically, anyway.
Nature, can do things to us - to our minds that makes our imaginations soar. Here’s the poem. It’s called Phases.
Phases
The moon is New.
Impossible to see; shrouded in her inky cloak.
She allows this night alone for the stars to take center stage.
Shimmering, glittering against a backdrop of pure blackness,
the stars put on an impressive show -- a celestial kaleidoscope of constellations--
Ursa Major, Cassiopeia, Perseus, the Pleiades…
Venus, Jupiter, Saturn and even Mars make their appearances as well,
tracking across the sky in their predictable orbits.
The entire Milky Way herself --
her graceful arms sweeping ever outward, twirling, whirling,
in this dance that has no end.
But the moon is a jealous lover.
And so, night by night, she will shed this dusky cloak,
like an astronomical strip tease.
It begins with a little slip of the cloak off of one shoulder.
Then, night by night, gradually revealing more of her
glowing, Gibbous beauty.
Night by night, until she becomes Full.
All fat and round and bright,
letting loose her siren song over the tides.
How boldly she shines in unashamed nakedness!
Then, night by night, she coyly pulls the cloak
back over her shoulder, ever so slowly.
And, night by night, she turns away, until we can see her no more.
She is New again.
Night by night, in this dance that has no end.
