Tuesday, January 11, 2011

December Selection 3

Lately the moon has been wondering:

Does it take its brief life seriously enough?

Sometimes it thinks it casts

Its light carelessly,

Does not bother to look closely

At its surroundings,

Takes little account of its

Long and now, sadly, routine

Relationship with Earth.

Realizes that it has been proceeding

automatically, with little thought for tides

And their consequences.

It senses that it has been only dimly aware

of inspiring 10,000 poems,

10,000 love songs,10,000 suicides.

These not easy things to ponder;

Doing so goes against long habit.

Things have changed

Since it was a young moon.

Behind its back the stars

Have held grand council,

Have gotten organized; and even

The planets are now quite accomplished.

The moon waxes and wanes,

An old familiar habit become

A predictable rut. And then, this morning,

Unexpectedly, come questions: What is there

To depend upon? Where do you want

To go? Do have a vision,

Any vision at all, for what you

Might become? Does the word “you”

Have any meaning, and if it does,

What is its significance? The moon thinks:

I must give these questions the

Attention they deserve.

Another night Approaches.

What are you waiting for?

- - Amos Clifford

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