I Am a Moon

I am a moon,

orbiting a planet.

That planet is happiness and the search for meaning.

I am a moon, and I get glimpses and promises,

the fantasy of Life Well Lived.

There is a well of emptiness.

Another name for it is potential.

And there are composers,

gathering up the energy for a symphony.

I am a moon,

and there are meteors flying by,

calling out my name.

“Come back! You are too dark to be seen.”

And I shift in place and leave because I do not know,

how to use attention.

The composer is magnificent,

in her ability to create a circus out of suits and ties,

in her ability to create a chandelier out of bent copper,

in her ability to find love in empty stares and slow recognition.

I am a moon,

orbiting this ability to create.

To know it is there but to shy away

is to constantly fail for no attempt

is made.

Oh, how I love those meteors!

Oh, how I hate those meteors!

The angels in biblical lore,

guiding us back to the moment,

telling us we are always seen.

 

Each creation can only be

transcendent in the moment.

This moment,

not the realities that are

outlined in a fear of the future.

This moment, not the lines

of belief patterns that force us to

create, create, create the same

over and over again.

 

The moon rises 4 minutes later each day.

Planetary bodies are subject to time.

My body is subject to time.

 

I am a moon, that orbits the same planet

every day.

That planet is possibility.

Dreaming of Mars and Pluto,

what can I wear?

How do I get there?

That is where I am meant to be.

Not here!

I am not a moon orbiting the planet of possibility!

I have not received the proper adventure!

This. is. not. my. life.

 

We are scared to be as slow as a snail, for in our blood is the

DNA of conquest.

Planetary bodies make the same trip day after day, with limited variation.

And we do not blame them for their lack of imagination!

For their limited experience!

We thank the heavens for consistency in the void.

How can we conquer the unseen?

The only part that’s up to me.

 

I am a moon,

orbiting the planet of possibility,

admiring the skills of the composers.

It is difficult to wish to be somebody else,

for it might not be possible.

It is odd to consider a moon’s transformation into a composer.

How can we marry the odds?

Will I ever learn?

I am a moon. I am a moon. I am a moon.

But this is my prayer to come through.

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