last month’s moon

he woke me in the middle of the night with kisses and gentleness, i know you’re really tired but you need to see the moon tonight. it might be the most beautiful i’ve ever seen.

he dressed sleepy me in a sweater and comfy pants, took my hand and led me out into the cool summer midnight. i yawned my way across the tree covered lawn and pebbled driveway to the clearing at the path that took us to the beach.

we stood atop the hill in what seemed like daylight, our shadows clear against the ground. the moon was big and bright and shone its light like iridescence across the waves, the only noise that night.

the ocean looked like mercury [the moonlight shimmering] it moving so fluidly across itself.

we stayed, he held me and my sunburn shivers stilled, i felt his heart at my side as it beat into me and woke me to the innate love we share. this is why we breathe. and maybe this is why the moon rose that night.

for love

and only love.

morning time moon

we walked along [hand-in-hand] sinking ever so slightly into the spongey, dampened sand. the moon followed us as we walked with it in sight, watching waves steadily unfurl along the length of the beach. we spoke about life and how we truly want to live.

there’s something energetic about watching the moon over the ocean in the morning time. like maybe it’s quietly talking to the tide, telling it come along now, move with me around our mother earth.

maybe it was quietly talking to us, too. telling us to come along and join her on her everchanging but constant moving adventure.

this year will be filled with just that. our constant moving growing love, across our everchanging life as one.

a poem for the moon and you

[photo via nasa]

i think of you, watching that blood red moon, holding in it all the sunrises and sunsets of all this world in one.
i stare at my moon tonight and imagine,
for a moment,
you are staring too, and just like that i catch your thoughts with mine.
my darling
my love
i miss you. the days are just so different from so far away. i’m scared the smell of you and our summer will fade the more i wash my hands my skin my clothes. so i avoid all the feeling that comes from all the knowing of that space between,
you see, i need you.
i need you in a way that makes my heart ache and ache.
but
i do know
all the world that lives in me,
in that moon
it lives in you too.
it breathes your breath into my lungs, i taste your sweetest thoughts, i feel your blood run through my heart.
it beats in a rhythm that could never tell us apart.
it beats in a rhythm of love and love and love.

you, me and autumn leaves.

i followed the moon. all the way home. more than half a moon, it glowed.
[your moon, my moon,
our moon.]
did you see it tonight?
oh and the sky is so clear! truly, all the stars are out.
i wished on them too. i stopped when i saw the first star at dusk, the sky was still blue.
star light star bright, it winked at me through the fluttering leaves of an autumn tree
stark branches on top
red orange green leaves
down
below.
all my wishes are coming true.
all my wishes know you.

later

the sky
the night sky
it looked a little different,
as i walked outside into the cool(er) air, it relieved me from this heat-drenched day. the ground was still, uncomfortably, warm.

the moon was almost full. the stars glowed a little more expertly than usual. a plane passed between the two, the stars and the moon, to paint a trail of creamy white against darkened blue, a line to break the blind.

but more spectacular still, on the horizon glowed a far-off bushfire. a plume of smoke.
big.
intimidating.
a haunting contrast to the normalcy of the stars and the moon and the big dark blue.
red and orange and a smokey plume.
drifting across tonight’s nighttime.
tonight’s night sky.

a whole lot of movement in the ordinary stillness.
the heat and the plane,
the glow,
the fire far away.

skimming rocks

our lives are made of ripples.
someone drops a stone.
we watch the lines expand,
grow,
burn and flow,
until the edges
meet the shore
and back it goes
once more.

our lives are made of ripples.
the stories become longer
the details smear and smudge
but the feeling
[the effect]
stains the very edges
of the hearts
we try our
hardest
to protect.

our lives are made of ripples.
they move as far as the lake of our love allows
they change
when they ebb
against logs
and rocks
and lily pads
or when ducks go paddling by
or when dark clouds drop raindrops from this great humungous sky
and there reflected in us,
[the thing we never see]
we miss it, we wish.
and i wonder
maybe if i was in the sky
and instead the lake was looking
at me.

you remember it, that day
and those ripples that you made?
as the moon rose
and looked so long,
stretched, then not
and bobbing upon a mercury lagoon.
it was all so full of you
your wish to see it there
upon the glassy, rippling water
your wish to feel it there
and share
your very favourite thing
with me.