The Moon Is Not Constant
April 2, 2010
I am overly fond of the moon ~
defensive in her honor,
identifying as I do,
with her constant inconstancy.
Her wax and wane
hide and seek.
With no light source of her own,
still she glows luminous in the sky.
Mysterious
Ambiguous.
She is the pull of ocean waves
menstrual cycles,
buried emotions.
She is wherever myth and magic lies.
A lamp for the gathering of witches
casting spells upon the midnight air.
A light to guide a gondola,
holding lovers in an embrace.
A beacon to call to flight
the snowy owl, across a woodland clearing .
Though she changes shape on us nightly,
we trust in astronomy.
We know her to be a singular, unchanged satellite.
We are not fooled.
yet we are entranced.
More than entranced,
even seduced, prefering myth and magic
to a waterless, creviced
dust bowl
cold, dark, and unreachable.
.
