Sunday, December 12, 2010


by Jack Reeves

Diaphanous clouds across the mature Moon race,

   Gossamer ghosts chased
As by invisible cosmic spirits
   Through this bewitching black void.

A silhouetted pine thrusts

   Upwards it noble boughs to
Heaven's inky vault;
   And Orion rings its nettle crown
In reciprocating splendor.

Jasmine and pine and

   The assonant scents of summer hover
In this moon-bathed wood--
   Shadowy images lit, singularly frozen in
Muted luster.

In this still-life night

   I muse of my being and all being,
And why and how and when
   It all did begin,
And whither its end.

And in this dim sanctuary I believe

   I can see...
In this epiphany...
   The face of the One Great Face
Behind the many masks.