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Ode to the Moon

Ode to the Moon

Nana Buruku,
dancing heart,
beacon
spinning trails,
gypsy queen,
alone
and full of light,
traveling clock
for migrating flocks,
inspiring creatures
to poems and howls on hills
between concrete and bark.
 
Madamita,   
meandering mothership,
mother of all mothers,
mother of the waters,
of ships and islands,
of rivers and waterfalls,
staring, confronting,
warning of floods!
 
Neptune’s captive wife
delivering windstorms,
squalling waves and whirlpools
claiming the restless sea
in conflicting undercurrents
and riptides.
 
When you eclipse
you hang like dead rock,
tired, old, a corpse,
reminding us how
powerless we are
in the eternity of your presence,
how small we are
with our greedy wars
and unforgiving thoughts,
how sad and impotent we’ve become
beneath your heavenly majesty,
floating free, suspended
in orbits beyond reach.                                  
 
Even on your calm days
you still pull and sway,
create maps on the walls of seashells.
All life, all leaf and embryo,
spiral and curve,
reflect your dance through cosmic space.
 
Elder sister who cradles us
in the rocking curve of your crescent bow.
Who holds and comforts us,
to coax us back to life.
Who feeds us
from the ancient wisdom well
and reveals the healing secrets of trees.
Seamstress stitching a story quilt
to protect us from the cold unknown.
 
High priestess, silver goddess
bewitching multitudes behind your
glowing mask and starry crown;
mystical guide
who gifts us with sight thru darkness,
luminescence kindled
in the hearts of opals and crystals,
mimicked in the clothing of iridescent fish,
rushing to and running from the Sun,
needing
to be, to love, to shine;
 
rolling around sobbing and joking,
flirting and withdrawing,
with unpredictable mood swings,
then disappearing.
 
Daughter of Earth, Jupiter’s neice,
cousin to Io, Europa, Ganymede and Callisto,
raucous and wild royal princess drunk with life,
laughing with lovers in lustful tides.
You flow by our window on your magic carpet,
sprinkle moon dust over our beds,                
then run away at dawn.                                 
 
You chant nebulous incantations
into the oceans of our dreams
as clouds embrace your face.
 
You like to tease.
Play hide-and-seek, stalking.
“Follow me!” you challenge us
in your ethereal dialect,
daring us to fly.
 
Though chained to earth,
we rise to touch the sky.

© Sandra Maria Esteves. Published by permission in Centro Voices on 10 April 2015.