Full Moon in Late Winter
Like a communion wafer
perfectly round and subtly silver.
I swallow it for transubstantiation.
It is inside my spirit
I am inside its ancient magic
for a transient moment
a piece of immortality,
the sun embraces me
through this deceptive reflection,
transmitted light
I am too frail to seize,
but I carry this moon sphere
into an undiscovered mystery,
a stream of shimmering dreams.
First Time
The first time I heard rattling
on the tin roof of a farm attic
I understood rain:
that tidal tattoo scattering
the clouds of my mind
into a million pilgrim orbs.
Water to awaken, nourish,
explore, imprint.
I became a wildflower.
Katherine L. Gordon
from Awareness Poems
SureWay Press, 2024
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