Easter's Moon
At sunrise, Easter’s Day, 2010, I caught Easter’s Moon
slipping across the southern pre-dawn sky.
Partially obscured by fresh budding trees,
near its last quarter,
it waned its way from the stalking light--
from full toward new,
from sun’s shine to earth’s.
slipping across the southern pre-dawn sky.
Partially obscured by fresh budding trees,
near its last quarter,
it waned its way from the stalking light--
from full toward new,
from sun’s shine to earth’s.
A fractured half eggshell on the move,
it scooped up the darkness ahead of it,
calmly trying to consume it all before
it itself was obliterated by the relentless rising sun.
Easter’s sunrise chased Easter’s moon into retreat and obscurity.
it scooped up the darkness ahead of it,
calmly trying to consume it all before
it itself was obliterated by the relentless rising sun.
Easter’s sunrise chased Easter’s moon into retreat and obscurity.
The sun boldly marches forth (so it seems) every morning,
to reclaim from earth that loaned light
it had so lately brushed upon the moon.
But the moon strolls back (it seems) every 28 days,
reclaiming sun’s light to wash and watch
the earth from the dark sky.
Easter’s sun vs. Easter’s moon:
Do the faithful who gather at dawn on the first day of the week
know the high cost of the sun’s eternal rising from the dead?
Do they lament the dying of moonbeams’ gracious glow
upon the glint of sun’s shining double-edged sword--
the disfiguring of one who has a human face
by one into whose eye they dare not look
lest they become forever
blind?
Do the faithful who gather at dawn on the first day of the week
know the high cost of the sun’s eternal rising from the dead?
Do they lament the dying of moonbeams’ gracious glow
upon the glint of sun’s shining double-edged sword--
the disfiguring of one who has a human face
by one into whose eye they dare not look
lest they become forever
blind?
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