Alien Landscape

lunar-white intimacy.

it has been a while since the moon and i held a proper conversation. memory fails me how many times she has since waxed the last time i laid eyes on her pale and painful beauty.

recently i came across several websites attempting to sell land on the moon. pity, these sacrilegious fools. going about their ways as if the moon is some common whore. of course those who see her as just a mere lump of rock floating in space is entitled to his/her own opinion. i mean, we people treat each other likewise.
we walk faceless among each other. fellow man and ladies brush past each other without so much as eye contact. just a flicker of recognition and a small acknowledgement of existence. face it. most of us see each other as mere lumps of flesh drifting about aimlessly. each man and lady is his or her own planet.

the moon is at the very least, an untouchable tangible myth as far as dreams are from the waking world. she is a lover, a muse, a mother, a friend to those who truly sees her with an open heart.

which lover has not gazed upon the moon with his heart a-flutter? which poet has not written a secret ode to her beauteous scarred cheeks? which dreamer has not envisioned whole journeys of in between the moon and yous? which man in his lonely years has not sought her cold distant embrace as he sat with his beard soft and brown? which child has not wondered wide eyed and locked the moon twice for always in twin depths?

there have been times she drove me moon-mad, locking me in the open prison of a silent scream. contrariwise there were still times when her furious whispers grew calm to comfort and be a companion to the hermit heart.

the moon is cold and intimate.
she is a sonnet when i have no words.
Posted by NHJ 4/02/2006 08:47:00 pm

Sunday, April 02, 2006