06/22/2011 04:14 pm ET | Updated Aug 22, 2011

Three Poems for the Moon

The moon means many things.

Moonlight can be a blessing or a curse, its presence an inspiration for love or a reminder of its loss, a source of creativity or of madness, melancholy or ecstasy, hope or despair... it is a part of what we are -- or could be.

Millions of eyes watched the eclipse of the moon recently, that majestic event in the sky, oblivious of our human existence, and felt part of the big shadow that transformed the normally flat yellow disk into a three-dimensional object. For a brief moment they wondered in awe and contemplated eternity...

Here are three poems I wrote with the moon as an inspiration...

While you

While you were not here
I was watching the eclipse
The moon was a ripe fruit
At the tip of my fingers
While you were gone
The tears were waiting
Like soldiers in their trenches
Before the deadliest of battles
While you were missing
The dreams were smudged
As seen through dirty windows
While you are back
Everything is on hold
For one more day.

Elsewhere Beyond the Moon

These iron footsteps lie,
They don't mold on your softness.
Let morticians have a jovial breakfast,
Indifferent generations of moths
Will fill in your long forgotten loves,
As the rooms of your passage
Are scattered worldwide,
Having the same light filtering through their windows
And the same edgy birdsongs
Keeping their fears awake at dawn,
While you are elsewhere
In a place where clouds without shadows
Slip over unenchanted valleys
And dried up memories
Still insist on blooming
Amidst the candor
Of yet another exhibitionist spring.

The Moonlit Garden

In the evening
The garden wakes up,
The cracked cement opens
And lets out an old Polish song
Of somebody's childhood,
So the fireflies
Can dance dementedly,
Their hieroglyphic choreography
Without any meaning
Or purpose
While I guard my loves
One by one
Within the stone walls.

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