The Moon Commences Its' Illusion

the moon commences its' illusion it rides the crest fully survivor of Roche's Limit survivor of human prediction filling the night with shadow my early morning walks the light in the distance calls thru canopied jungle path the setting moon stepping on the soft white beach where a silver highway plays in the rippling water, i am the human past who long ago beheld such a sight without the shaman's cheap trick nor the cold touch of science have accepted the moon just is beautiful to behold we let each other be we are one and the same dancing thru the universe and when this is no more we will be lip to lip i do not know what God is and have no such need yet whatever it is it is magnificent the heavens live to die and in that death life finds itself again my wishes, mere mortal longing that so might i even Rimbaud capitulated the reprobates' fear of reprobation and i have but one question before the empyreal throne is there in heaven, a moon Norma's roof Santa Cruz 95