on mu'untha bright

Long she rises short she rides, she whose face now wax now wanes whom we all hope will sail again through inky even blackness. Here her face deep red does shine, there it sports an orange hue, as her cheeks with steady glowing through the shadows gladly pierce. Crisp the contours of her chin that one can follow with a glass, tracing patterns, mare to mare, from impact spot to ancient sea that surely she once cherished. Bright in day as through the night she trumps in power ocher Sol, shining always down upon us, never resting, never dull. How she does it we know neither, how her surface keeps on shining when her back is to the sun, how she does it in square rhythm, none can fathom, not a one. Cease with vexing thoughts and patterns and lay back to watch her work, spy her ferry shipwrecked souls straight back to harbors whence they came. In her glory she surpasses all the other bodies bright, for her tugging keeps our oceans and our rivers running right, oh elusive mu'untha darling, in your clockwork course of old, shelter with us hopeful mortals, silver-faced and always watching, never late and never due, always shining, always new.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥