A sea-storm of cloud over just-dark:
brightness beneath, bats whispering
the air out of reach, breath held
breeze rattles black cherry
and the moon-rim rises, pulls clear
quivering against blue-black
Something more than five hundred
full moons I’ve been alive and why
this one night it transfixes me—
How many of those hundreds have I
completely ignored, blind to looking,
blinder to not be transfixed?
If it were ten times brighter, twenty
times, would I not soon forget it
just the same? Take all for granted:
bat-wing silence, leaves unfurling
in daylight, the rise and fall of waves,
countless fruits dropping to the ground
What good is it to notice the fruit
if I don’t look up to the tree? What good
is it to be transfixed by the moon
in a sea-storm cloud with you in bed
waiting for me to lower the blinds?
Inspired by last night’s moon-sky and a little interchange I had with Meg at Pigspittle, Ohio about Noticing.
11 thoughts on “Moon”
This has almost the feel of a Japanese poem. I recognize well that feeling of not paying attention and then looking back and wondering what one had missed–beautifully done with the moon, and the close brings a sharp and personal touch–very well done. Thanks, Jennifer. k.
Thanks for reading, k. I like the idea of a Japanese poem…
You’ve set up such a nice tension between the earth and moon! Love ‘countless fruits dropping on the ground’.
Well, bless you for making it sound like I know what I’m doing! Tension, by golly.
Chills reading this. 500 full moons. And the noticing the tree, in addition to the fruit! All so true and lovely. (I did spy the full moon last night, just before going to bed, outside our living room window…) So happy to read this poem this morning before I go out to walk. ❤
I did that calculation a few times…with a calculator, just to be safe. 😉 I’m glad you liked it, hope you had a glorious walk.
Absolutely beautifully penned my friend 🙂
Thank you so much for your kind words!
Thanks, Jennifer. There is such a poignancy in the last verse. So often we spend time cataloguing the details of our lives without taking time to live the story. You’ve done a great job expressing that.
Thanks for reading, really nice to hear from you. I’m glad you like the last bit. There was a bit of frustration behind it…on rereading I see that having someone wanting you to come to bed is a good thing.
“What good is it to notice the fruit
if I don’t look up to the tree?”
Crucial question… I also love the final metaphor… …very profound poem. Thank you Jennifer.