Seshat Nibada

Mid-Autumn Moon Festival - Poem by Seshat Nibada

The silver moon is set
in harvests unseen, the pleiades
rush home across half the night
though the night is never spent

i lie alone, with sappho
ready to bridge fragments
of my human body-shell divine
The golden moon is set

in harvests unseen, o queen of songs
voiceful, with the heart’s wild cry
storm-tossed I gather spirit
across the all-unattainable hope

that heaven’s empyreal blue
will never be fully lost, always recoverable
in some future where the moon
hangs low and love’s feet brush dew

across a soft-cushioned bed where
i rise a pillar of light, where my
descendants regard across fields
on planets with many moons!

Poet's Notes about The Poem

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, September 28, 2013

Poem Edited: Monday, September 30, 2013

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