A
Sonnet To The Winter Moon
The
winter months begin with this clear night.
November's
full moon radiates the sky
And
touches rim to mountain rim with light
Through
shadowed branches, followed by my eye
Awakened
in its glow. That silent call
Of
moonlit forests, ancient to one's heart
As,
too, it is on earth, comes over all
And
with its power filled, I stand apart
From
daily human life's most turgid snares.
This
moment turns all thinking towards the Mind
Of
light within, and leaves one's spirit bare
As
these now leafless trees with light enshrined.
By
wisdom purified of all that's done,
I
am with winter moonlight now made one.
(1989)
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