The moon is rising swiftly tonight,
as if it can barely wait, as if this will be the last
and only time, a last and only chance to be fully seen,
fully appreciated for the pure transparency of Presence
pulsing in the supernal lunar song it sings.
Behind the curtain of exquisitely reflected light
draped across the horizon, dreaming’s doors
are thrown open to the infinite sky of mind,
that space in which this moon and I arise,
the stage on which we dance tonight.
As if on some invisible celestial cue,
everything emerges and performs within that
borderless vastness, dancing in an enormous dark,
with nothing else to do but shine and vanish
in a way for which no spoken words apply,
nor could anything conceived by reason
ever possibly compare.
Just one taste of the dark elixir
distilled from that mystery magic
can drown two sorrows – self and other.
Dancing or being danced –
what difference would it make?
There are forest flowers tilting towards the light
in a hushed choreography of wordless worship –
each bloom unique, and yet all exuding
one collective sigh of adoration.
When we become very still, we can listen, hear,
and intuitively understand that perfect language,
and in such a simple but sublime way, realize
we are so much more than we’ve imagined.
Moon-struck and heart-pierced, we all stand here,
silent, trembling, and astonished in the light,
feeling the barely perceptible turning
of the whole planet as it sails in its course
through the endless night, carrying the dreams
of every forest creature in the serene caress
of the Presence that lives them.