Sunday, January 13, 2008

On The Moon

on the moon, all is still.
a weightless non-atmosphere
(encases)
all mementos in a perfect
Always.
though we shall travel on—
through time and space—
to grounds more fit for
growth,
though divine rotation shall bring
days and nights (all seasons in
their orbit); yet,
as our greenery
extends slowly—(sometimes, maybe, sadly)—
unto heaven’s light: A perfect Branch of
babel: bringing with it
cleansing rains,
still,
there will always remain in my
dusty lunar self
an
eternal and exalted footprint where,
for the first of many times, we kissed and
stood and loved,
and where your eyes danced into the
forever timelessness of
Now.

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