Moon-Walk
©August 18th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
The moon comes down to me at full-tide time
And says, “Come outside, take a walk with me.”
I put on my shoes, and walk in the shadows
Emerging in the light, along the silvery paths she makes,
And when I go down towards the Church of St. Francis,
I see the white statue of that kindly Saint on a hilly rise.
The moonlight glows on him, and on the kneeling Nun
In her white-shadowed moon-grotto, and they are beatific.
How beautiful, these eerie shadows of trees
Hurling themselves against the eternal stone of the spire!
And silent the buildings stand, while the moon
Pours down her milk into my upraised throat!
I walk alone along the moon-paths and the dark,
And as I walk, moonlight pours into my eyes, blurring
Car-lights, brash and gold, which compete with the night,
While street lamps clash, unreal colors against silvery-blue skies.
The moon sails on between waves of clouds scudding by,
And we smile at each other, earth-bound and orbit-bound.
So simple a thing makes my body relax its vigil on ache.
There might be suffering ahead for me, or not.
There will be losses, because to live is to lose to death,
But the moon will shine behind my dark irises, in memory.
When I die, turn me moon-ward, to her shining silver face.
Enfold me in night, and I will heed her mystery as I move on.
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