A Seaman's Poems

From the Edge of Reality

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In the Moonlight

by Mark Seaman


The light of the full moon makes all things serene.

The light of the full moon stirs poetry within me.

The light of the full moon creates prophesy.

The light of the full moon compels me to worship.

I am 15 once again and just beginning to grapple with the mysteries of the universe.

There is something timeless about the full moon; the same moon has appeared in its glory throughout my lifetime.

There is something eternal about the full moon; the same moon appeared thousands of years before me.

The clock moves - Day and Night - the earth spins.

The clock moves - Month on Month - the moon orbits.

The clock moves - Year on Year - the earth orbits.

The sun controls it all and the clock moves

I am 15 once again and just beginning to grapple with the mysteries of the universe.

I am alone in the moonlight. 

The majestic peaks lie before me.

The pine trees cast long shadows in the intense moonlight.

The newly fallen snow shines bright in the moon light.

This land was sacred to those who lived here before me.

This place is sacred to me now.

I worship silently - I shout out loud - a feeling of awe takes me.

A shiver goes through me.

It is cold here, but something else too - something deep in my spirit.

A shiver goes through me.

There is something of magic in this place.

Echoes of weddings and funerals linger in this abandoned chapel still.

I am totally alone - miles from any other person.

The peaks, pines, and new snow ... basking in moonlight.

A shiver goes through me.

There is something of magic in this place.

I am united with all.

From the richest to the poorest, all will see the same moon tonight.

From the saints to the sinners, all will see the same moon tonight.

From the lovers to the haters, all will see the same moon tonight.

From the rice paddies of Vietnam to the fortresses of power in Washington and Moscow, all will see the same moon tonight.

Most will barely notice the magic of the full moon, but some will.

The slaves building pyramids once marveled at the magic of the moon.

The astronauts of my childhood once walked there, but they did not remove the magic.

The children of Genghis Kahn also marveled at the magic of the moon.

I am joined with all humans across time and place.

I capture this moment and commit it to memory.

I am 60 now and just beginning to grapple with the mysteries of the universe.

This night brings back the magic from long ago and far away.

I am at peace.

The clock moves.

There is something of magic in this place.