The Sun Now Rising
Graces
The Sun Now Rising
The night seems to cloud my moon
Altogether the smoke from my cigarette
Pales my sight
Darkness swept my solitary hermitage
Crept to my soul for me to breathe
A lungful of smoke
Slowly my moon comes to shine
Played the white of the smoke
Slowly it begins to dance
A vignette of platonic desires
And swayed the smoke to satanic vigor
Faster now it’s a whirlpool of illusions
Dancing the silhouettes crowding my room
Laughing, laughing the years!
My moon reclined
Swanly mobile it graces love
Alas, sublimity besieged me
Brought back my lost childhood Eden
Built me Olympus!
My Hera, my moon
Dance me more the Muses
Dance me more naked
Bathe my body with graces
To the sun now rising.
©NDR10.19.2016
A twilight to dawn poem. Reworded some.
As I recall, if my memory serves me right, it was a hot humid night
with a full moon when I wrote this in 1964 in Manila. With Philip Morris
and San Miguel. One smoke led to another gulp of beer, and more and
I started seeing the Muses, dancing! Before I knew it I was seeing orange
and yellow streaks between light clouds in the horizon: the sun has risen!
A new day.
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