A Poem For Those Who Escape Through The Moon


When I was young, on Sunday evenings
The Moon would dance his way to my window
Through the skies and all the stars
He weaved his way down to Earth
And ate through her layers
To visit me in Queens

When he knocked on the glass
He held out his hand and I climbed
Up his crescent spine as we sailed away

He showed me the world,
Her beauty and sorrow
And inevitable destruction
We as humans will all create

It was here on his back I called sacred space
As I swept in my hands golden dust
From infinite heavens

The day I turned 18, the Moon said to me
Our time is over, but I’ll always be here
And he took me around the world for my final ride

When I walk through new cities
And look at the sky, I imagine the night
My lonely child will meet the Moon
When he comes back down to be his friend too.