West coast joining in the #fullmoonsocial2014 with a poem and a beer, and drinking it from a glass to keep this shindig classy:
We’ve given you a dark side, and labeled you pale—
maybe we are the distant ones. Still, you look
up to all things bigger, tugging on our tides.
Are you of us? We began and you began.
Somehow formed, you can’t escape us,
and for all our proximity, I’d say
we hardly know you. What do you want
up there in your vault? Struck, you default
to giving, giving endlessly, day and night,
seen or not, small at the end of the line,
which is not the same as coldness;
and constancy is not the same as oldness.
It’s closer to tumescence, or maybe,
say, wholeness. Why not give you
a child’s voice? Proud but uncertain,
often at a loss for how to feel,
keen to reflect, or bashful, hide.
With no light of your own you share
what you’re given without hesitating,
even as a sliver, you offer up, and full,
give all. Never questioning, never
caring what we already have. Graciously,
gratefully, you make your face to shine
upon us, we who are your world.