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Nantucket Moon

Charcoal clouds smudge the moon
A luminescent orb in an opaque sky
And all the haunting doubts
In the faces of the moon
Enigmatic orb in a troubled sky.
A cameo of lovers, a mother and child
a crying laughing clown
The face that is the moon’s,
and in it there are too many aspects
Smudge by clouds of fear,
Shroud in our drifting veils
And revealed in our dreams

The tides of life upon our mortal shores
but if freedom is love
Then let it be and ocean
Between the shores of our souls
Running its fingers over the footprints of loneliness
Touched and touching but not touching
Ebbing and flowing
Drawn and pulled
The tides of Love upon our shackled souls
So let us be magnificent, awesome in our splendor
Let us pound against each other
Slipping away with a hush,
And though we collide with thunder
Tossing the spray of our laughter
Smoothing the crushed shells and pebbles
From and age ago of sorrow
Let our freedom be this movement
This breath of each other, mouth to mouth
My wave upon your shore
Your ebb beneath my wave,
Mingling the sand , the soil
the earth, the water
the moon, the stars
Our rhythm, our being,
The force of our movement draws us together
And flings us apart.

Yet this is not unknown, not even at birth
So we must come to recognize the faces of our lover
Even through the veils of mist that obscure us
And muffles our laughter with bleak silence
There is comfort in that sorrow
There is warmth in the loneliness of that luminescent orb
Not even the lace mist,
nor smudged clouds can obscure it
For even in the fog I hear the surf
Knowing what touches without touching
In that mystery of attractions
Knowing what ocean lies between us
Knowing the slavery of the rhythm
The struggle of time against time
Of motion against firmness
The unstoppable force
The immovable object
And what happens
Is eternal erosion
Nothing is lost
existence is gained
For life is motion and erosion
Inseparable and constant
And so the moon looks upon us Like children’s faces looking up
Holding wonder like a cup.
So I have followed the elusive flutterby of my thoughts
And it has brought me to
Issac Pappisamidashavilla!
Whose face is the moon,
or is it his eye,
Or the iris of his eye,
or the retina,
Or perhaps even a single rod on the retina!
And thus on cloudily nights he peers unblinking
Through the mist and vapors of my shrouded world
And holds me entranced
caught in the embrace
Of his invisible attraction
And I am left feeling that arbitrary oneness
That a conscious animal feels
when being aware of himself
His mind touches the eternal,
catching infinity
Like splashing water
in a laughing up turned mouth.
There is uniqueness in the oneness of beings
As there is separation in the oneness of the universe
What is cosmic is invisible
Relative motion, in an infinite
Where motion becomes constant stillness
And time is forgotten in vast voids
Yet across those cold empty spaces
All is drawn together
or drifting to and fro
The universe has no shore, In being both wave and sand it is immortal
In being more than sand
We are immortal
For the rhythm of our souls
And shores of our flesh
Share oneness in Loving.
Nantucket summer 1970
Dimitir Rimsky