moon. one third leaning right. the moon sees everything.
- True Identity is that which exists within one’s own heart
and is seen by another. In & Of Itself, Derek DelGaudio
I live inside a poem.
right here. this one.
the one you’re reading. right now.
look again if you don’t believe in moons.
we pretend we can’t see each other.
everything I see, I see from here.
every curve you draw.
every voice you make.
every motion a finger inscribes.
children taller than parents are.
each word. you know some of them.
each ray of Sun fallen onto the floor. feelings gravitate.
dreams of slow gathering.
a cradle with a cat sleeping inside.
when prey’s life is inside a predator’s mouth
beauty is described by taste more than by hoof.
is change merely a different us?
are we just bigger than before?
I don’t like question marks.
when I die I’d like to be Summer, maybe Spring,
as far front-faced to the Sun as possible.
something with a big Sss sound.
for us human folk, process matters more than result.
join us here laying in the Savannah shade beneath a tree.
sometimes a meal will come to those who wait.
I want to use the word, delicious.
don’t think I don’t like the austere spaces in-between the words. I do.
there, did you see that movement in the grass. (not a question)
I don’t so much choose the words I eat as simply say yes when they arrive.
hold my hand inside the stalking moon’s eye. please.
what we are is, observable. a moon can see us. anyone can.
says the moon. dont’cha know I am never far from you.
floating in your hand.
all of life painted there. colors. see.
notes beside my feet.
initiating quote, by MERRILDSMITH in comment to artist/poet Kerfe.
and notice how so many leave words of music behind where they go.
the moon sees everything, a small yet right thing to say.
small observation for the eyes. moon scene, found before intended.
suggest click the image to enlarge, then a second time too as the image
is rather large so each expansion is something of a visual waking-up.
maybe a delight.
5 thoughts on “the meaning of this is”
“simply say yes when they arrive”–the only thing to do, really. Merril does always leave music. (K)
Thank you Kerfe. Yes, saying yes, but I know so many who don’t – instead resist, cajole, argue, ignore (tired just to think about that). That’s the beauty for me of learning to trust free-association, many many small yes’s to make. Thank goodness they often make no sense at all you know!
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sometimes later they do…
Really beautiful poem.