 |
The moon need not be full
to be lovely,
Need not be crescent
to be poignant.
Wind, come morning,
brings down the last of the oaks,
Bursts of sienna crossing the field
with a sound from the confines of time.
In a lifetime of desire
to know our universe,
How little we understand
about its most common elements,
light and water, gravity and each other.
Come morning, we step through our doorway
into incomprehensible beauty.
It's not so much the wind and the moon,
it's their rising we love.
