Thursday, December 30, 2004

The Presence

It is here, in the house, in the dark,
Among us.

There are the tell tale stains
On the carpet
Glowing like an eerie
Spill of milk.

I close my eyes
The air is taut and still
With resonating expectation.
I cannot hear it move but I feel it
On my hand.
Tiny hairs tingle like antennae.

When I open my eyes
I watch it on my skin,
Burning with a cold pearly fire.
My shadow sharpens, takes on an
Independence of its own,
Gangling behind me
Like a monstrous
Insect on the ground.

I feel my senses rearranged according to another's will.
My rationality reduces
to a child's,
But all the others sharpen.
I am nose of dog and
eye of cat
And ear of bat
And skin of worm feeling the
Spider's footstep from afar.

Always it catches me,
Always in darkness,
Usually alone.

It is from another world,
It robs my reason
It utterly enchants me.
It kisses me with madness

It is moonlight.




(c) A McN

Whilst there is little evidence for statistical effects of moon phase on human biology and psychology the mere presence of moonlight has the same impact on me as snowlight, lending a mythical quality to otherwise drab circumstances.

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