The day lengthens,
the old earth tips its hat
to the moon.
The changeful moon
goes through many phases,
even in a single night,
though it is the same
moon as ever, we know this.
We are the changes.
"Moon" by Frederick Smock. Text as published in The Bounteous World: Poems (Broadstone Books, 2013). Reprinted by permission of the poet.Art credit: Untitled photograph by Suppakij1017/Shutterstock.
Curator's note: Please take my two-minute survey before A Year of Being Here concludes on January 1. It will help me (and any potential publishers) decide upon an anthology of mindfulness poetry.
gosh, so brilliant. Have never read this poem before.
ReplyDeleteShall miss your postings immensely.
I have learned so much,
but wish you well for whatever comes next.
Again, Thank You.
Thank you so much. It has been a joy. I wish you all the best. (But we still have a couple of weeks to go!)
Deletenice
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