Zen Poem For The Gray Moon Rising Poem by Marieta Maglas

The moon rising
from the water is not wet.
Yet, it is like those
wet, sitting stones
that are beaten by the waves.
Rising from that horizon,
which looks like a moving stone
when it is made
of wave-like shapes.
This moon doesn't have algae,
but it has memories of life.
It can never be a shore stone
waiting for an ending,
while not thinking,
not longing, and
not dreaming any longer.
But maybe this celestial body really
sits on the shore of life
when it becomes a
a slender crescent
and sends its light
to those dreamers,
who still need love.

Poem by Marieta Maglas