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Tuesday, February 14, 2017

What Takes Shape Outside the Present Frame

A swan idles
And so do I
While the full moon rises
Over Weesuck Creek
All of us unknowing
How much longer
We can maintain
This liminal state

The moon arcs higher
Buoyant into twilight
As an inch or two more
Separates it from the horizon

And into what dimension
I wonder has the swan
Swum off to now
And for that matter
Wherefore am I 
Falling or rising
Into the cloudless sky

* * * * *

What a treat to walk down to the Creek and watch the full moon rise in the company of this swan - this being last Friday night, the night of the penumbral Snow Moon.  From the looks of this poised and beautiful creature I wonder if this may not be the very same bird that prompted Rilke's lyrical outpouring many years ago.  On a spectral night such as this so much can be read into this picture about the various realms unseen - which is, I guess, precisely what my poem is attempting to describe.

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