Moon Speaks

In the rhyme, the cow jumps over me,

her udder wagging a milk milk rain.

A blasted cat saws music on a violin.

A little mongrel snickers, a dish elopes

with a piece of flatware. It’s not easy

being confined by nursery twaddle.

Know who I am.

I pull and the sea rises to meet. Gulls,

pelicans fly low, looking for a quick

fish, schools of plenty. On the other

side of Earth, oceans swell, expand,

strain to escape gravity. What push-

pull there is in me. What tit for tat.

I’m that urge that dissolves, as butter

slides, into nooks and crannies of a break-

fast crumpet, its tiny hollows designed

to net desires. If you like, smear with

raspberry, cherry, currant jams. Eat.

Delicious with tea and cream.

Come.

Slip into my blue-tinted shadows, into

the fable of you. Whisper spider web

riddles and water spells, read messages

in wet stones. Count your unborn grand-

children in the lines of your palm.

Mornings, wash your face in the dew,

find luminous new ways to be.

Hope’s a white kitten chasing its tail.

Look.

A pale rose sprouts between your brows.

Poem copyright cathy larson sky 2019
Photo credits:

Photo by chuttersnap on Unsplash     The full yellow mooon

Photo by Jonathan Pielmayer on Unsplash   The jam on toast

Photo by michael podger on Unsplash   The spider web

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash  The rose