Behind The Moon

Chance Medley

Are there more worlds behind the moon?
How can your headshake be so sure?
We cannot see through it,
yet we can sing it
into something else,
use our sound symbolism
to make it a cymbal
whose edge I could reach for
to stop it ringing out.
To block the screaming
from people who risk death
to turn themselves
into poetry.

We're not together by design,
more randomly encountered.
A chance medley gathered
in a moment of time,
forced to play as one piece,
beneath the moon, our symbol,
of all we can briefly touch
but never fully understand.
Would you silence us all?

I rise to a figure of speech -
like the moon - a vital metaphor.
My words reshape memory,
giggle us back to innocence,
to those days you played with me,
not knowing what I would become,
how your dark and absolute belief
could make me a woman
who risks her own death
for poetry.