QUILLA

It is one of those true nights
those winter nights
when the moon is there
VERY there
And you can’t help but
be jazzed with wonder
And we are in transit
and my only child
watches it as we venture
hither and yon
compass spinning and I am yawning
but she is mesmerized
and perplexed
Emitting then a stream of inquiries
about where the moon is
exactly
And is there a man there haunting
and what about the cow
that leapt over it that long while ago
And how it follows no matter where we wander
and why
we can’t elude it ever
There shining       There almost wooing
And is it magic?        Can it do spells?
And why we chose it
as her name         and baptized her thus.
And I could only think
to respond that
it orbits around us
and has done so nearly
forever
moving like slow dancers do
Magnetic
and full of grace.
Moving oceans
and winds     
and sparking imaginations and passion
but hovers there too
laying down the
subtlest light on whatever path you take
in the world
and that is the light of the sky
at night             a blessed time
as far as I am concerned
a light of mystery to ponder
and a light of angels
we pray keep with you always

And I had gazed at it there
in a different sky
in those wee hours
way back when
you came into our midst.

Erie
February 26, 1997