Sunday, February 27, 2011

Night Skies

Looking up at the moon,
My moon, the moon you see,
Our moon.

Often we see the cotton wool clouds,
Clearing the orb we all see in wonder.
I often wander to what lay on the other side.

The dark-side, the abyss,
Lost to our consciousness,
Filling our desires to know,
To understand and grasp.

Beyond our reach; our hands
will raise to touch the intangible.
To feel a unifying world
That isn’t ours.

We look up and see emptiness,
Scarred by the spotted stars,
Dotted by the Moon,
The single most eminent being
In which we hold the highest esteem.

I look up and see our sky,
Etched by the sliver or waned white marble,
Only to know that somewhere,
On this planet I call home,
That someone is also glimpsing upward,
Seeing a magnanimous identity we have yet to meet.

Our visits have been marred by selfishness,
Stabbing a flag into its pure and unperturbed surface,
But we know it is not for us,
It is our reminder that we,
Mankind, belong here,

For now, anyway.

Where we may go, when we may go,
Our moon will be there, revolving and moving along,
Undisturbed and unchanged, while
Our lunar dreams will always be a fancy:
A willful want to reach an inevitable demur.

Listen to me now, telling you to look.
To see the moon that we both have loved and considered,
Neglected and forgotten, misunderstood and oft ignored.

I see it, I see the moon.
I see that, just as it has brought waves of consciousness to you,
It has brought waves to our Earth.

I see that it has made us lunatics,
Wanting the impossible.

In our sanity, we will find reality,
We will find our place,
Our existence will fit and we will learn to love,
Here, There and Everywhere.

P.S. Click here to hear the spoken word recording. Recorded and engineered by Andrew Bregman.

Night Skies - words by Kiran Gordhan 2/11 by bregman

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