Maneuvered by metaphor,
sashayed with clichés,
I looked up and it was still there,
that sun pasted between
a cobalt wall
with translucent clouds
brushing in the fore.
A golden pill hung
before I ever was
and hanging still
when my blip bleeps its last.
I relish every age spot
given by its graces,
and return its due
respect after
tender shoulders
absorb aloe vera.
A light by which
I see.
A warmth by which
I feel.
A presence by which
I love.
It was a dot
which floated.
It was the eye
jaundiced.
Maybe the
beginning
of degeneration.
Macular senses
dulled by
a speck of
space dust.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Transit_of_Venus_(disambiguation)
“A total lunar eclipse occurs when the Earth passes between the sun and the moon, throwing the moon into shadow.” Space.com
*
Landing a Lunar Pitch
The moon and its seams
settled in my split fingers.
I will throw it into a shadow.
I have to toss it fast alright,
the earth and the sun are in rare form
so timing is everything.
The Umpire set a thin strike zone.
The catcher suggested this pitch
and I tipped my hat.
But where is the batter?
Is he outside of the shadow box?
I picked up the rosin bag and wondered.
*
“May I cut in?” Earth
That is double dip darkness.
The moon emits no inner light,
then the earth cuts in line.
The shadow of humankind
cast across emptiness
to the man on the moon.
*
Crayons
The yellow sun
and the green earth
birthed a blue moon.
“Every good gift and every perfect (free, large, full) gift is from above; it comes down from the Father of all [that gives] light, in [the shining of] Whom there can be no variation [rising or setting] or shadow cast by His turning [as in an eclipse]. James 1:17 The Amplified New Testament
Could the moon be a peep-hole?
Could the sun be a spot light?
Could the stars be pinpricks of the eternal?
Could the ocean be shedding tears?
Could the tides be inflections in a voice?
Could the waves be ballroom dancing?
Could the mountains be a la mode?
Could the foothills be out for a stroll?
Could the valleys be hoarding echoes?
Could I tag along child, and wonder around with you?
Could you share your imagination with me?
Could we see if God brought something for show and tell?
Gerald the Writer 