Open Spaces

In the crescent moon, I lay.
Just beyond, grey swims into the deepest black.
Staring out into the expanse I feel so small.
So dark and so cold is the night.
To where have I been laid that there are no stars to remind me?
No earth, no eve, lo not even the sun do I see.
Moon, me, and this night.

My toes begin to curl around your edges.
I worry I may slip out from you and fall into the abyss.
Shelter me, won’t you?
Let your glow permeate the sky, a chance for understanding!
I recline in your bend letting your top crest rise above me.

As we glide through the night your shape turns.
Barely now do you hold me.
My chin pulls me forward tilting my head slightly left and I peer out.
My eyes begin to comb the sky as my chin draws right.
Black is the night as far as my eye can see.
I sigh, we glide.

You have lost almost all your shape now.
Ever dark, ever cold.
Yet, the thing that tugs at my fear the most is the silence.
At times I mirror the silence.
Other times I speak aloud to you making sure I can still hear a thing,

“ ‘Do you work wonders for the dead?
Do the departed rise up to praise you?
Is your steadfast love declared in the grave,
or your faithfulness in Abaddon?
Are your wonders known in the darkness,
or your righteousness in the land of forgetfulness?’ ”

What anemic color you had has now gone out from you.
Small white clouds appear before me as I breathe out.
My eyes follow as they roll out into that dark, still sky.
They dissipate,
alone again am I.


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