(for Shalama)

Here’s how to become a moon;
First fetch the color of the sun
peel it by it’s first skin from within,
hold the oceans by your right arm
and swear by what lives within it.

Pick on where you eyes will look,
Northern light heralds ceremonies.
Southern ears hears the language spoken by gods,
Western waters wave with women within mortal wars.
Eastern festivals depend on your back.
You take on your full body with the sleep of the great bright snail.

You will witness the darkest caves of a man,
His heart will look like what his father never thought of him.
You will watch the making of children
and the most secretive atrocities wield breath.
There will be laughter of deceit and moans of cheating.
Death will be a familiar family member – roaming your streets.

Always take a backpack of stars,
They will be your witnesses when an animal swears,
they will become the symphony crickets will sing with its eyes up – lost fireflies.
You will be lied upon by lovers
You will be sworn upon by priests
You will be silent like this poem.

And when you have worn the color of the waters,
and pledged to look without seeing.
When you bring forth your witnesses who leave like shooting stars,
and agree to be lied upon while you watch the lilies.
I will enjoin you with a name,
I will now agree that you will become celebrated.
You will be the moon, watching over your children.
You will be ALONE.

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  • Reply Monica February 17, 2019 at 10:08 pm

    Amazingly beautiful

    • Reply Ruddapoet March 5, 2019 at 6:44 pm

      Thank you dear

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