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February 14, 2005 - A poem about Cosmicity

The Hero Moon.

Is he a man?
Or is he a figment?
Like the glint in a raindrop falling
from the lost tail of a speeding satellite?
He soars - acres high, up, above crown of land
like a proud beekeeper ushering safe return
of eve-time honey dance in costumed night.
Us, lost in starmist now beaconed through
to dusk-smudged earth below his subtle touch
that reaches dust, of mortal ground.
Is he a man? A spirit? A dream?
Who knows this truth but he,
who has power to roll tides,
to move minds of lunatic or child.
Even calm midnight doubt of poets
holding shadows back to see his glow
that steals away the clumsy thump of fate.
This hero’s light! It illuminates,
it shows us footholds in the night.
He is all, to all that seek
to know.


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