The Book Of Night - Nine Poem by Daniel Brick

(VIII)

Last night, a mild evening in early October,
while listening to Shostakovich's Second
Cello Concerto, I gradually became aware
of two Moons. One was the familiar Moon
which looms or dangles or floats in solitary
splendor over my Twin Cities, and splashes
a white carpet across the lawn beneath my balcony.
This must surely be the Moon of My Inspiration
because month after month it presides over
my creation of poems. My heart stretches forth
in gratitude for that lunar abundance.

The other Moon rose invisibly
casting its transparent light
over the Russian's music which speaks
both eloquently and sarcastically
in its ever changing moods. That music
cast its spell over me and the two Moons.
In our characteristic ways, we were shining
in the sheer joy of two kinds of moonlight.
My soul, ever in readiness for such a summons,
joined Music and Moons, all four blended
into one nocturnal being, completely enclosed
in the perfection of the moment, as if Time
had harmonized its components into a single frame.
Such is that Over-Much of Beauty we witness as Earth's creatures.