Beneath the moon

A cool evening after a very hot day, and the sky is a dark shade of blue.
Just before the stars come out, last chance to look at the view.

Around me my life is falling apart – again – and all the pieces are strewn;
like words thrown down in argument, like shadows on the moon.

Is the moon waxing or waning? I feel out of touch with life’s patterns.
While spirals of drama exaggerate things that don’t even matter.

But they must be dealt with, and so must I; I need to find some help – soon
to regain my balance on the tides of life, down here beneath the moon.

My landlady’s cat is on Prozac. Had to be, I suppose,
after he chewed up her hearing aid and wouldn’t stop scratching her toes.

She despairs of this life, so complicated! Full of people who seem like machines.
And then reminiscing, about friends gone missing, she goes chasing a ‘might-have-been’.

She says “My lovers always left me, all those doubting Thomases!
Fleeing me and my broken heart, broken by broken promises.”

And I just pat this stoned cat as he purrs a wordless tune
And my landlady drinks her occassional wine; down here beneath the moon.

Sunshine from long ago, sparkling on a rainy day;
birds singing and the sound of truck-brakes from very far away.

Memories are my favourite habit, and harmless enough, I say.
Here I am again, lost in my herbal tea, drinking the day away.

Some memories dress in rags of conversation and come to me in disguise;
And some I have kept so fresh with devotion they still bring tears to my eyes.

Memories so intense, they still can make me swoon,
Memories handled with care and occassionally repaired; down here, beneath the moon.

We were lovers of a silence more passionate than anything we could say
Now we talk all the time, about bills and appointments and “things that happened today”.

And it’s still love, it just sometimes get tired and frayed with old regrets;
but in the night, when the darkness breathes, it’s still that same silence.

Back then I thought I was here to open you, thought I was the Master Key.
But the lock just laughed and began the business of slowly unlocking me.

I was the hacker who got hacked, swept away by a silence like a monsoon
That rattled all my bits, and left me eclipsed; down here, beneath the moon.

Down here beneath the moon we beat our drums and sing our songs.
And we dance upon the earth, ‘cos she LOVES to be danced upon!

And after the thunder and the mystery and the revelation and the light,
And sunrise over the mountain with the moon in plain sight.

Comes the come down, and breakfast and returning to life once again.
Back to all the strewn pieces, and it never ceases, all the stories of pleasure and pain.

You ask “How am I travelling?” Well, it feels like I’m unravelling, but that can all change pretty soon.
I’m just waxing and waning, and occasionally complaining; down here beneath the moon.

I’m just waxing and waning, and occasionally complaining; down here beneath the moon.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *