Cosmic moon

In the still night
           a bright moon seen
from my window on the world
           full almost
but shrouded in mist
           and I think
what silence
           before the stars were born
what emptiness
           before the appearance of space
what an eternity
           before the first pulse of time
a lightless lovelessness
           beyond comprehension
without word or tongue
           or creed or earthly ambition
pure nothingness
           no birth
no exhumation
           no mortal lullabies of pain
no narrowing lust for gold
           no blissful palpitations
in the blood
           no dust unto a dust
to return
           no breathing grace
no thing
           no no

John Lyons