Looming Moon

Originally posted on The Gnarly Oak by Ryan Griffiths

I look to the sky on a damp fall morn,
The early blue heaven marred streaks
Clawed by many shades of gray.
Far off to the West were mountains
Waiting for the coming day
And above them was a floating rock:
The full and glowing moon.

Just as the sun blew its waking horn
From behind the Eastern peaks
The dim orb stopped; it had something to say:
Come to me, my child, so lost you are;
Here on the craters you will find righteous way.

It is only this globe that these earthly legs can walk
But up there – where it’s glowing – my thoughts forever loom.

But up there – where it’s glowing – do my thoughts always loom. Taken on Paseo Del Roble, Los Altos Hills, California

Read more by Ryan Griffiths at his blog, The Gnarly Oak

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About gnarlyoak

"Nestled sporadically over great and endless knolls, devoid of life during dry summer months, the oak trees of Los Altos Hills – so numerous around my home – speak to me in an unheard language. Like any person I am the sum of my successes and failures but unlike the masses I have heard the language of the oaks – I found meaning in their forgotten voice." - Song of the Oak
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