She is the very likeness of her.
Like her, pretends not to see me,
here, writing in my notebook, nursing coffee,
sketching her profile – no, really she’s profile.
Counterparts and counterpoint. Two melodies in harmony.
At dawn, the Earth’s shadow is blue-grey
and above it is a pink band –
the Belt of Venus wrapping our world.
Shadow ascending in the east, as west
sun sets, her belt and robe dropping.
(The shadow of the Earth is curved like the Earth and extends hundreds of thousands of miles into space. When it “touches” the moon, there is a lunar eclipse. A partial lunar eclipse will occur in the Eastern Hemisphere on the night of August 7-8, 2017.)
I am waxing, not waning, though really
a waxing and waning crescent Moon look
much the same and in this phase
my wife only knows I am intermediate –
less than before or perhaps becoming more.
Forgotten in the lilies of the day
are the night’s terrors of the soul.
No mystic, not a believer, simple soul,
without divine connection, floating lightly and free,
a butterfly toiling and spinning at blooms.
Inspired by The Dark Night of the Soul by St. John of the Cross.