Don’t Stare At The Moon
Any farmer knows
you don’t stare at the moon too long.
You get a little soft in the head, they say.
What they really mean
is that magic overtakes you
and carries you to the place of green fields,
of orchards heavy with fruit
and cucumbers cultivated straight
as a shot of rye whiskey.
What they really mean is that the magic
will make you see fields to be seeded
and calves to be born
and worlds to be peopled.
What they really mean
is that you will fall in love
with your earth
and in awe watch the wheat weave its gold mat
right over your eyes.
It is a softness of the heart man fears,
for the myth must enforce
the hard head to blunt
the pain of life everlasting.