The Gift of Continuity
to the unseen…
to the magnificence
of what is always here,
but often behind
Last night I saw her as a sliver
in a clear sky.
A rounded cup as if to hold All,
the stars were drops splashing out.
This morning, she is gone,
and yet never gone,
the depth of our being.
To know how far her reach is…
what had been important a moment ago
All and I feel
small and big at the same time.
Day 17, poem #17, a “fast write” poem, from the prompt “the moon”