Water From The Moon (a Poem for My Mother)

now imagine this.
me – a moon chaser running across the sky 
stealing blue-white streaks 
to travel years of light. 
imagine if i traveled 
to the moon
to gather a liter of its water 
to cleanse your aura
and fill the creek that many have stolen a drink from. 

imagine if i strike myself 
against the universe 
and break open a fountain 
with a mountain 
of moon water 
to immerse
bathe and save
the flowers
in your garden that thirsts. 

last night i contemplated
just how complicated 
could it really be 
to steal away a piece of the sky
to light your eyes again.
i drew myself closer to you, 
as if like a fire, 
and wanted to spend 
my entire life right there
in that somewhere.

last night i dreamed of angels
beautiful ones
with beautiful eyes, 
hands, and feet 
and they carried 
villages of mothers 
from a paradise to feast 
on your enthusiasm.
The same enthusiasm
That provided me meals on days 
when i was famished 
and wasting away. 

I imagine us
clapping our hands 
and dancing 
to the off-beat rhythm 
of our hearts
singing a song that 
only you and understand. 
would you tell me there,
in that very space
exactly what it was 
that stole the radiance 
that once resonated 
on your face?

last night i watched 
as you slept and unraveled 
and i knew you traveled 
from the crack in the universe
where privacy gives you the 
time to hurt. 
i longed and longed
for your return 
but instantaneously 
felt a yearn 
to take a quantum leap
to meet you inside your sleep 
and wait until you awake
to decide which path to take
for our journey into the light.

mother, i am patient, 
so i won’t rush
and just hush touch 
our softened hearts
that often hurt so much 
with water from the moon 
i have stolen just for you.

(c) 2004