“Song for the Moon” by Bob Rich
I float in my boat on the stirring sea, face-up at the blinding sun
Could I reach up to touch a gorgeous bird?
Time falls into my hands like golden dust and spills into the sea
The sails above me rustle like silver windchimes
But, in my boat, I hold my empty porcelain cup with no wine
In sea-born solitude, I feel no woman’s smile like warm honey over my heart.
With a paintbrush, I could paint a blue trampled flower
A blue injured horse
A blue sun over a still and boat-less ocean.
I long to hear the misty maritime song from God’s ocean radio, the shell
Yet instead there is a broken melody from a bird without a home.
Birds fly overhead now at night
Songless and homeless
Birds of white and blue sorrow, of green and blue sea
Of blue and purple longing.
Could I keep even one jewel as the over-turned treasure chest
Spills into the ocean ~~
Dumping bracelet upon bracelet, necklace upon necklace, ring upon ring,
Silver cup upon silver cup, shining crown upon shining crown
Into the blue forgetful sea
Blue like a ripe fruit, its juices wet and cold on my face.
I sail on the sea
I can hear a blue opera in the weary, churning sea foam
But no fragrance greets my senses like perfume of crushed pungent rose
No warm woman’s hand against my cheek like a childhood promise.
So, I wait like an un-burst firecracker in the snow
Like a hot coal burning down through a cold hill of snow
Birds flap in wild passion beneath the ice
But no white wing can pierce up through the snow.
There is no kiss of blazing fire that cleans ice and mud from my face
There is no boat here on the sea with lovers whispering secrets
As crashing sounds of waves conceal their words so that only the moon understands.
My heart is a cave of ice
Where blue frozen crystals bathe in light
Where sleeping white bears have been hibernating for decades
Red flowers grow through muddy icy ground
And one blue rose
In an icy cave, even a small fire is gold.
Then, like a forgotten wish
There in my boat at sea in the night
A flock of white birds perch atop the empty cup in my hands
The birds search for any color other than blue inside my cup
With their feathers made of ice, beaks of ice, tails of ice, eyes of fire.
Dear Lady Moon, high above me
Your white tears of milk fall onto the icy birds perched on my cup
The birds melt
And my cup overflows with blue icy water
What rapture, when I see the reflection of the moon there in my watery cup
The white glory of the star-surrounded moon.
How many souls have sung to you, Lady Moon?
How many children have you comforted with your tender white embrace?
How many sailors have you led home at night across the sea
With your soft and luminous song?
O, your dazzling lamp, Lady Moon
Your white and swirling dress of silk
Your orchestra of stars
Your champagne lunar wine for my cup
Your soft white beams of light which fall and burst
Like rainy white fireworks over my boat upon the sea
Your bright white circles that softly surround you
Your bracelets of gleaming white
Your necklaces of shining pearls
Your rings of bright silver
Your lovely lunar crown.
At last, Lady Moon, I can rest here in the calm night
My cup filled with the warm and golden memory of your rapturous song
Here in my boat upon the sea, I can happily sleep
Beneath your gentle light.