September 19, 2006 § Leave a comment
Someone recently told me the moon looks like another electrical fitting as one crawls through the traffic of everyday transit. It makes one wonder if this is one of those defining moments of city life. This same moon, which inspired Shelley to gaze in ponderous wonder and ask-
Art thou pale for weariness
Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth Wandering companionless
Among the stars that have a different birth,
And ever changing, like a joyless eye
That finds no object worth its constancy?
This Moon, which an aspirant believer looks to in adoration and every dreamer signs his soul away to, in hope of salvation. Maybe it’s the ever-inconstant nature of its existence, that uncertainty of Being as of a changeling’s. Or just the borrowed brilliance enchants one.
I do wonder though, what kind of pole would do justice to a vision so heart rending.
Reduced thus to another fitting on a harsh street with loud streaks of light. It must be a crime in some other world to forget the moon in its exiled ascent, glowing in silent reflection upon this one.