Trip to the Moon

Last night I stepped into a historical current--the Beatles timeline! To whit, Christi alerted me to cheap Paul McCartney tickets on stubhub and we realized it was The Chance of a Lifetime!, bought them, and went. It was incredible to think that this is someone who has seen and influenced so much--starting decades before I was born. He wrote Blackbird to give hope to those struggling for Civil Rights in America, and indirectly taught many Russian officials English (because they listened to Beatles albums). What a gift he has, and he really has used it to bless others, all over the world!

This poem is the love child of trying to reconnect with imagination while waiting for an internet connection.


Pretend you're walking up a wave
That never breaks, but rushes towards the Moon
To introduce a creature to the Source--
High honor!...So the simple wave assumes,
But you're a grounded child, and your course
Miraculous at first, impossible,
Now far beyond control--seems terrible.
One hemisphere in shadow, never seen--
Who is this man--or cold celestial queen?

How will she welcome one neglecting gravity,
Her own most-cherished law, her hobby horse,
Defiance born of love and innocence
Too giddy to be limited, entrenched.
Don't cast your servant down, be merciful!

But his ascent has drained the ocean dry,
Much hangs in balance--I perceive the whole,
I hear the porpoise weep, blue whales sigh,
Resigned to what has long been creeping near,
Sped up by love, you say--but you don't hear,
Don't see, don't feel death lurking behind.
I won't receive this blind, unthinking kind
Of green affection. Worship in your bounds,
In who you are and where your gift is found.

Thus spoke the queen--her gray eyes gleaming bright,
Their velvet texture edifying night,
As she repelled the one who broke my fall.

Thus we returned, to live as we were called.