Artist

Alexander Averin

Sunday 25 July 2010

Full Moon




Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth.
Buddha




The Moon


The moon was but a chin of gold
A night or two ago,
And now she turns her perfect face
Upon the world below.
Her forehead is of amplest blond;
Her cheek like beryl stone;
Her eye unto the summer dew
The likest I have known.
Her lips of amber never part;
But what must be the smile
Upon her friend she could bestow
Were such her silver will!
And what a privilege to be
But the remotest star!
For certainly her way might pass
Beside your twinkling door.
Her bonnet is the firmament,
The universe her shoe,
The stars the trinkets at her belt,
Her dimities of blue.



Emily Dickinson

9 comments:

Frances said...

Cait, I thank you for you kind comments.

I have been very aware that we were in the lead up to the full moon this week.

After this afternoon's sudden and quick rain, I so hope that tonight the sky will be clear again to give us a wonderful show of lunar magic. The city's electric lights are mere imitators.

xo

ds said...

Lovely. Thank you.

DJ Kirkby said...

Nice words in both the quote and the poem. I wasn't aware it was a full moon as the skies are overcast at night at the moment.

The bike shed said...

The moon and the tide are synonymous, especially here in West Wales. Yesterday evening I floated in the sea at Nolton Haven: too early to see the moon, but the pull of the tide is constant reminder.

The bike shed said...

The moon and the tide are synonymous, especially here in West Wales. Yesterday evening I floated in the sea at Nolton Haven: too early to see the moon, but the pull of the tide is constant reminder.

Fennie said...

The Buddha said some wonderful things, left some wonderful teachings, but the quote is surely not one of them. The sun, moon and truth can all be long hidden as illustrated by the surely apocryphal tale of the visitor to the great steel works at the foot of the Afan valley in the days when pollution created a thick black fog of dust and when men worked day shifts and night shifts and frequently say no daylight from autumn to spring.

"Is that," the visitor asks a local man, pointing to some object in the direction of the heavens, "the sun or the moon?"

"Don't ask me," the man responds. "I come from Port Talbot."

Molly said...

I read the poem and then looked across at that beautiful picture on the right hand side of your blog Cait. The words and the picture go so well together.

Rob-bear said...

Such interesting poetry you keep. Thank you.

On the lunar theme, the bit that came to my mind was:
"The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas."

Sadly, Fennie's right about the comment from the Buddha.

CAMILLA said...

Just lovely Cait, thank you. I so adore Emily Dickinson's Poems.

xx