West coast joining in the #fullmoonsocial2014 with a poem and a beer, and drinking it from a glass to keep this shindig classy:
We’ve given you a dark side, and labeled you pale—
maybe we are the distant ones. Still, you look
up to all things bigger, tugging on our tides.
Are you of us? We began and you began.
Somehow formed, you can’t escape us,
and for all our proximity, I’d say
we hardly know you. What do you want
up there in your vault? Struck, you default
to giving, giving endlessly, day and night,
seen or not, small at the end of the line,
which is not the same as coldness;
and constancy is not the same as oldness.
It’s closer to tumescence, or maybe,
say, wholeness. Why not give you
a child’s voice? Proud but uncertain,
often at a loss for how to feel,
keen to reflect, or bashful, hide.
With no light of your own you share
what you’re given without hesitating,
even as a sliver, you offer up, and full,
give all. Never questioning, never
caring what we already have. Graciously,
gratefully, you make your face to shine
upon us, we who are your world.
OPTIONAL POETRY 
I think she is of us (at least that’s one of the theories floating about). Or are we of her? Another stunner.
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Thank you — I think what’s most compelling to me is that we still don’t actually know. We see the moon so regularly yet it still retains some mystery
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I think C is of us. (Which may be somewhat disturbing to her. But there you go.)
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Ha! I like Groucho’s axiom about not belonging to clubs that would have me as a member, but in this case I will happily make an exception.
Again, this was a great idea — enjoying reading everyone’s poems!
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Lovely. Some special lines for me. “We’ve given you a dark side and labeled you pale” Because we do it to one another all the time, why not to a gift of light because aren’t we perverse so much of the time? Also, “Why not give you a child’s voice?” Is it of us? I know we are both. When I was a little girl, sometimes, when I said my prayers, I said them to the moon. No more, but yes, I pray by moonlight often. We are bound by its mystery.
I’m going to publish one of my moon poems now that’s in a chapbook. Intimacy. I find a great intimacy in my relationship to the moon. It’s called Wisteria Moon. It’s a love letter to my moon.
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