Thursday, March 11, 2010

Songs To The Moon

When there is merit in songs to the moon,
Its poetry has secret syllables
Singing in enchanted intervals.

Such poetry cannot come too soon.
A spray of stars upon the slate of night,
It must wait until the moment is right.

Until I can find my mind an anchor
To the brash chemistry of verse and rhyme,
To the fierce formulas of art and time.

Until I can free my heart from rancor
I cannot make this power manifest
And nor can I hope to ever attest

To its motive for being and merit.
I must marry my blood to the spirit
That still sings, if I can only hear it.

I have this love, but I cannot bear it.
I wait in the wake of the moon for strength
And the courage to travel any length.

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