by Sophie Cabana
Have you ever looked at the moon and grown drunk on the sweet nectar of her beauty?
Or buried your face in the grass and tasted the cool hope of a new morning?
Or let saltwater throw itself against you and sting your old cuts?
Water touched by wind, soil mingled with stardust:
this is what you are, like everyone else.
So is it any wonder that she, the moon in her orbit, pulls you
as she pulls the oceans and their tides, transfixes your upturned head and curious mouth?
Is it any wonder that you are always pulled down, as if your body craves the earth,
and at the same moment pulled up, as if your spirit craves the sky?
What are we? Only temporary imaginings.
But where are we? In everything, a part of everything.
There is no shame in our weakness; the ocean carves rocks slowly.
There is no shame in our smallness; you wouldn’t call a flower a failure for its height.
So look up, and let the ancient moonlight have its way with you, and enjoy this fleeting presence.