Incomparable Mourning Moon

The moon is a poem of time

as it absorbs & refracts

all vows equally in every dimension.

For now, here, it rains in high summer—

there, now, it burns in permafrost.

There are wars, still.

An epidemic contagion flourishing

systemic inequality built upon

catastrophic species chauvinism—

one member of the spaceship

deciding everyone else

is dispensable.

It is a time for mourning.

And radical transformation.

For planting, planning & preparing.

It is a time for being non-reactive

& evolutionary—both, gently.

For living by vow to aid all beings

in knowing their broken hearts

(including your own)

(including my own)

This poem body of sun, moon and stars

is a vivid galaxy of possibility

is the ground growing beneath us,

our life & breath, our past

present & imaginal future.

Here it all is.

The way transparent, evident.

May we receive cosmic light in humility

& give every lumen to the fertile dark:

a green vow in a dream with rain & fire.