Distance

i

 Does the moon become less clear
 with the passage of time?
  
 Or does it return to the onyx sky
 more clear with every early crescent
 than its own remembrance?
  
 And how will my love fade then
 from this sky, from this arriving evening
 and its fragrance? 

ii

 Look into the space between the trees
 like the morning field opening inside you.
  
 It will leave a passage in your eyes
 between the light and other silent places,
  
 and you will hear the wind along the arches
 and the deeper silhouettes,
  
 how he lifts each leaf against his body gently,
 no two lovers ever closer, or more transparent.
  
 © Nina Audino
 1992 

The Moon Rises

 she is borne by time and truth
 through bare branched beauty
 into winter's womb,
 her hallowed space alight
 with midnight’s moonbow – 
  
 it's only ice, and an illusion of the eyes,
 the solitary voice of reason 
 whispers to itself, 
 22° in dimensional perfection,
 only prisms, angles and refraction – 
  
 but the moonbeam’s miracle
 is a gift of Sight,
 and in the eyes of each beholder
 each seed of ice bends the beam
 anew to make the ring of light
  
 and the heart knows rightly
 how the moon is rung by beauty
 and the wonderment of light,
 with pathways of perfection 
 no two eyes perceive alike – 
  
 her hallowed halos doubling and
 reborn in that one moment
 our eyes are uplifted, 
 yours into night time’s rainbow 
 and mine into her winter light.
  
 © Nina Audino
 December 31, 2020