Poets are those
who need not be told
that the moon is
the mind’s greatest deity.
There is always light
here on Earth ~
even wrapped in night’s
black silk sheets,
I wear the mood
of ambient silver
that holds my room
in the pulse of silence
inspired by its presence.
Where did I leave
those chains I chose
for myself, chains I made
as if there were nothing
to do but set limits
on my vision,
admit impediments
to the marriage of my mind
with divine silence?
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