Oh, what far-westering moon
into the early morning winter sky
does crowd that sapphire plane
in abundant silver light?
What dreams of fragrant flowers
or wishes of love, are cast upon
sleepers bathed in beams of magic light?
What memories of a primitive place,
or tall-masted ships, come a-trickle down
like precious jewels on the slumberer?
And have I never danced in the arms of a lover,
that the full-lipped moon should touch me so?
Or is there enough primitive beast inside me,
brought to life by the eternal silvery glow?
I long for the arrival of the near-distant spring,
when this same full moon calls me to fly,
or to run through the forest with the pack,
or to lie simply in the dew-jeweled grass and remember
the far-westering moon, awash in a winter sky,
accompanying me of a sleepless night.
2006
Toni, now this is nice stuff. I love the descriptions and the imagery in your work. Richard
A wonderful piece. The freedom of the beat movement with the style of the renaissance. It's like Kerouac and Shakespeare sat down to write a poem. I give it an easy 10.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Ever so lovely. This is a brilliant piece of writing. Thank you ever so much.