I found the moon
on a bed of flowers
With his beams
cast in white
In a moonlit garden
that gleamed in silver
On a clear and cloudless
starry night

No reds stood proud
no tangerines
No purples
in royal sheen
Quiet greys
and blooms of whites
tossed back
his ivory light

I found comfort
peace and calm
In darkness
that lent her charm
The greens warmed
by a streaming stole
And beauty
that heals the soul

Each day is lit
by the flaming sun
Yet such loveliness
when the night returns
And what mysticism
and mysteries
In darkness, these eyes can see

-

i want to reach up into a clear
night's sky and gently pick the
moon out from the darkness
between forefinger and thumb

but when ?
and what shape ??
such a chameleon !!!

shall i do this in a crescent
phase to see if the contour will
fit atop the periphery of my thumbnail

or perhaps wait for the full glory of
its radiance, to roll it between the
palms of my hands and feel the
illumination of it upon
the skin of my
cheeks
?

Yes

to feel the coarsen texture
of tiny mountains

and to see for myself
what lies upon its shy
hidden face

but as i reach skyward,
my intellection hesitates

watching how it confidently
sails with the stars—

having pulled it down from
its heavenly perch,

and

not knowing for certain
how to put it back...



"to hold a celestial being"
© 2020 by Seranaea Jones
all rights reserved

I want to write you a big long letter
and give voice to the frustration I feel
maybe even get mad at you
take it out on you
say horrible, nasty things
flail my hands in animation
smash a vase or two against the wall
release the real animal rage that I feel
that you have your own mind and your own will

but how could I?
first of all, I pride myself on my high thinking
I can’t descend to those petty vibrations
that will only destroy me in the end

But, the real reason
are your big brown eyes
those deep hues
of which I have a tendency to fall into
whenever they linger too long on mine
oh, why can’t we intertwine?
and be so close that we forget we’re dying
just for a second or two, at least?

the sun is splicing through the blinds
in neatly descending rays
casting parallels of shadow and light
across the bed

the leaves whirl outside the windowpane
the branches rustle in the late afternoon breeze
reminding me of the lucid dream I had on the bed we shared together on the floor
I was flying through the constellations
at incredible speeds
It felt so real at the time.

if you won’t come away with me
if you won’t let me stay
I won’t hold it against you
I won’t cast you away.

the freedom of choice is a gift (I respect your choice)
and I love the freedom of this life too dearly
I love the sunrises and the sunsets too dearly
I see the light in me seeing the light in you too clearly
to ever make light of the profundity of this

this trip
what a trip
and if we’re not on it together
then I’ll pass you on the highway
separate loads
with separate courses
in the twilight
I’m so glad to have seen you
for a moment in the headlights.

Moon

In moments when the long night
Recoils from even the moonlight
Stars and their whispering intentions
Time and its travel slowly
To the fields
And their reach

To draw to the beaches
Harsh pounding wave
And sudden crash
Climactic breach
Of security and sinking feet

We try and clang the bell
Announce the fall
To all who might dwell in that place
Distanced from the longing
By loneliness and crippling complacency

Like shadows of our youth
And the days we grinned the future
Wearing it proudly on brown arms
The sun and my freckled smile

Captured in a Kodak captivity
Loss of better things
Or promise?
A tomorrow lit up
Even in the night

The great skill
Of healing well
And rest was not lost for the wicked

The might of consequence
Had not taken its swing
And days were spent without concern of their cost
A weary hour had not yet creased my forehead

My thoughts race faster than the clock
And still the tick tick
Slip away
Of what it meant to me
Your embrace
I could not now
Sketch your face

Once singing clarity
A vanishing
But the cloud that kills the moon
And hope would feel like anarchy

But the moon will surely pull
The waves to shore
And with their rapture
Your wake

And a golden spot to cause my eye to blink
For time
She does move surely
And on and on into this
And so do I as well

So do I as well

This fragile heart
sometimes bursts into
the tiniest shards
                  of infinity
clear as crystal light
yet empty
as an ocean, waterless
longing
to be filled and filled
over and over
as I would fill you
to the brim
overflowing with
enough life
and love to heal
a thousand
                aching moons

Distance                                                



                         does not mean a thing. Just as the moon grips the sea, your love will have ahold on me. Forever and unchanging.