Posted on April 08, 2020 by Tim Eagan
The greens of Spring
Are everywhere
Swarming among the sunny hills
And valleys
Tonight a supermoon
Rises like clockwork
And fills the night
With reflected glory
An overwhelming beauty
Without vanity
Or consciousness
Or expectation
Merely a confluence
Of light and matter
Within the confines
Of the cosmos’ laws
It feels no grief
Or dread or joy
Nor does it offer
An insight of its own
Save what is in our minds
And that belongs
To us alone
Not some higher power
Are everywhere
Swarming among the sunny hills
And valleys
Tonight a supermoon
Rises like clockwork
And fills the night
With reflected glory
An overwhelming beauty
Without vanity
Or consciousness
Or expectation
Merely a confluence
Of light and matter
Within the confines
Of the cosmos’ laws
It feels no grief
Or dread or joy
Nor does it offer
An insight of its own
Save what is in our minds
And that belongs
To us alone
Not some higher power