Moonrise Over Red Rocks

MOONRISE OVER REDROCKS

sandstone outcrops cradled us
in their carved fire belly
as we danced on waves of red ash
dry streamers, vortices
a sheath of glimmering stars above

with arms aswirl in the darkening sky
we could not distinguish song from wind
nor our bodies from the breezy melody
so warm and womb-like
on our skin

harmonized voices diffused our arms
into evanescent wings
on the verge of becoming the wind
its gentle rocking force
crashing our faces

“What is that?” I asked in breathy awe
pointing to the far, black horizon

a glowing dome
coliseum of gods in the distance
the moon’s shining forehead crowned
the definitive line of night
its glowing face as rubiginous
as the jagged rocks that flanked us

for hours the brilliant universe
teased us in sensual delight
as the wind raked its fingers
through our dusty hair

“Come twirl with me,” it said

we bathed in its cool embrace
certain that if we died in this moment
we would die happy
our heads and hearts laid to sleep
upon slabs of amber stone
surrounded by stars
museful voices singing
a harmonic melody
until we finally became the wind
and flew into the night

 

 

___________

(c) 2019

 

Published by Marie Marchand

Poetry for me has always been a seeking. Always. An effort to come closer to beauty, to explicate beauty, to behold it in words. I wish to formalize beauty, to give it a title and empower it to go forth into the world. I want to give it shape and lend it the capacity for remembrance. Poetry captures essence. Without essence, there is nothing worth saving. John Keats and William Wordsworth are my favorite poets. My absolute favorite poem to read aloud is Wordsworth's Lines, otherwise referred to as Tintern Abbey. And it must be read aloud at least annually for uplift of the soul. I have shared my poetry through various means including handmade chapbooks, readings, and publication. All the poetry posted on this site is written and copyrighted by me. This collection represents about half of my poetry.