Full Moon
A Portal. A circular door -
to eternity, maybe, where existence goes
to die, to be reborn again. A hole to crawl through
leaving failure behind. Call the place we land in
heaven, although it's dark: the moon does not shine
without the sun. The two-faced sky
sees both sides, its single eye
trained on absence: words not said,
the back of a mirror. The stars' mirror-image
held on the sea. We paddle through
our own reflections, full moon above, that watery
gate. The shape of you, the shape
of me. The infinite distance to be crossed.
-Alison Pick
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