Monday, April 09, 2007

Pathways to Temple

Does it seem to you too grand
that I call myself the moon?

I do not mean that I have charge of night,
or that all should fall and worship me.

I cannot turn midnight lakes to silver,
or gild the trees with shadows.

I can't call forth the nightbird's song,
or light stone palaces white.

I only mean I lay beneath her quiet leaves
and count the chimes as stars chink up the sky.

I only mean I feel the breeze
as the hem of her gown ruffles past my lips

and that, like her, the velvet dark
is cloth whereon I rest my thoughts.


Blogger Chris Never said...

Lovely lovely as always

and count the chimes as stars chink up the sky

yes indeedy


7:13 PM  
Blogger burning moon said...

Thanks Chris.

I sometimes worry that all my poems are horrible personal and indiscreet. I think people must cringe to see me expose myself so completely.

7:23 PM  
Blogger Chris Never said...


I have always said this

It is why your poetry is so good

That giving of self

without that

poetry is just scenery

2:50 PM  
Blogger burning moon said...

thanks. But it does seem to leave me constantly feeling like I'm standing in a shop window with my knickers down.

Not a comfortable feeling! Some days I'm just not up for it.

4:45 PM  
Blogger Chris Never said...

Every gift has a price

You either pay it
or you don't

would you turn away
from your gift?

5:01 PM  
Blogger burning moon said...

mmm ... maybe today ....

I'm sure I'll get over it.

5:09 PM  
Blogger Chris Never said...

We are bestowed so few gifts Moon

Never turn your back on
such a precious one mate

5:55 PM  
Blogger Chris Never said...

Ingore my ravings, I take myself far too seriously sometimes kid.

Didnt mean to tell ya what to do

4:45 PM  

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