Circling days I once followed the moon
Mother of expectation, mother of many moods
Of course, I had no language for the
Tides inside my mind, the swellings in my heart, the pulse
Patterns of tears and rages rising
That fell away, but rose again, sure as a morning
Times I’ve eaten it, watch it grow round
In my belly, watched it disappear behind a cloud
Wept for its benediction promise
Both harsh and kind, darkness as real as returning light
I’ve watched her, “how she flies, golden sails
across the skies”*, waited there, our celestial meeting place
I’ve fallen under a silver spell
I’ve watched all night long on a cold mountainside, the arc
Of her journey, my shivering doubt
Strangely calm inside my woolens in brutal weathers
Perhaps I’ll always search for language
To describe what swells and fades, my changeable yearnings
My howling blends, eternal chorus
We creatures singing ancient songs to a moonlit sky
* Nod to Songwriter, Jimmy Webb
Early Morning Poems 