The Silver Moon Glows Tonight

By Will Tuttle

The silver moon glows tonight;

Ancient grandmother, you breathe your cool breath

Into the hot and harried corners of cities, cars, factories,

Into the sweating uncertainty that nags and drives young and old men and women;

You breathe your cool silver breath on the oozing wounds of forests,

On the redwood stumps, and

On the squirrels’ and bears’ last furtive backward glances on their old homes…

O great silent mother moon,

Soothe the dark raging agony that surges through the prisons of this world;

Calm the fretful agitation in minds too long constrained,

Release the pent-up prisoners of greed, hatred, and delusion,

The bodies of elders and children, of dancers, artists, and dreamers,

Of cows, chickens, entrepreneurs, housewives, sheep, pigs, guards, ranchers, clerks, goats, calves, lawyers, foxes, scientists, turkeys, investors, mice, bankers, and dolphins,

And light the captives’ and the captors’ dreary cells.

O silent mother moon, witnessing through the whole human night,

Your unblinking eye and soft silent fingers miss nothing,

Slipping through the bars into dimly-lit cages of laboratories,

Of animal dealers, of circuses, zoos, rodeos, factory farms, and fur ranches,

How do you shine in these billions of mute and desperate eyes?

How do you also shine into the eyes of animal traders, butchers, breeders, ranchers, and experimenters?

How is it that you are reflected in all these eyes?

O grandmother, live on tonight!

Breathe your cool all-seeing life

Into the dark eyes and cages!

Glow your rhythmic reminder of the great conjoining,

Of One Life lived in countless forms,

Reminding in thousands of lakes, pools, puddles, and eyes,

The ancient memory

That lurks in hiding and longs for, and will be, released!

 

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