by luna Sunday, Feb 28 2010, 3:47am
Pauline Morgan, photo
that afternoon was predominately grey;
sky, clouds and the evening light reflecting
if ever a sky could be
it was that grey blanket
above Rushcutters Bay.
a perfect half-moon stole glimpses
of the earth between rolling lead clouds;
bright, transmuted silver shafts of moonlight,
reached the earth
originating from a hidden,
warm, golden sun.
the moon, framed by grey despair,
seemed to shine of its own luminescence
against the heavy gloom.
occasionally a long break in the clouds
revealed the moon
hanging, bleeding reflected light
from a clean dissection.
i gazed up often at its wounded yearning
as if answering a plea
that few could hear.
people hurried past casting
apprehensive glances in my direction
perhaps wondering whether
i was a genuine ‘lunatic’
making silent entreaties,
face pointed skyward
to the pagan Goddess of the night.
i would not wait long;
the entire universe acknowledged
my silent petitions
affirming transience, flux and constantly shifting realities,
as (the) primary characteristics of existence --
a life of constantly changing splendour.
the midtone sky began to develop a hue,
lead-grey slowly shifted to
a colour often used
as a background to serene Buddhas
seated in trance
eyes turned upward-inward
with faint smiles painted deftly on their faces.
in minutes the grey foreboding became
a soft sea of velvet, indigo-blue
gently supporting a serene
half-moon and wisps
of silver clouds reflecting
is it coincidence my favourite colour
Ain't no Sunshine when she's gone - Bill Withers
Season of the Witch - Donovan
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