Moonrise

July 2006

Actual, non-songwriting poetry for once. Inspired by an event a long way back, it seems now, October of first year. On some vaguely organized late-night trip to the point, lying around looking at stars, and suddenly there’s this strange orange glow out on the lake, and it turned out to be moonrise, which I’d never seen in that fashion before. I’m not used to clear horizons. But in any case, it was absolutely gorgeous in the way that such things are. I ought to get out there again sometime, maybe check an almanac.

The moon rises, slowly and unintelligibly,
Over Lake Michigan,
A sliver of orange on the horizon,
A trail of light on the water,
Poseidon rising from the deep
With slow steps crowned in burnt gold

And we gasp, forgetting for a moment
That we shiver on cold stones in the darkness
And bask in the nothing-glow, the sky blossom,
Pale sister of the dawn, and yet

There are more glorious things than dawn
In the unlit spaces of the void
Cataclysms rage, stars ignite, and all dance
Together, all tied, all unbound, against each other,
To be mere sparks upon the heavens’ forge

And this,
A sliver of orange on the horizon, and
A trail of topaz light upon the water.