THE BACK SIDE OF THE MOON

Standing behind the tree, he hides to avoid the wrath

Now hidden, he clearly feels his anger, his despair

His will pushes forward as a rearing horse, scared

Full of confusion, moved only by a small, rustling leaf,

Not sure why, like a breeze stirring, his senses vibrate

Hidden, like the back side of the moon,

His feelings resound into the quiet

His heart beating strongly and loudly,

As a syncopated rhythm slapping the air

He makes his presence heard, his soul’s voice

The road is clear, as he looks around, his choice apparent

His journey bound, his panic felt surging through his body

Knowing only that he must leave his old home, his security

Once, he felt a warm joy holding love and comfort

Now, he feels only a cold misery of hate and discontent

Wrought with tears, he starts shaking, he starts running

How could he have put up with this so long, he roars

He hugs each tree, strong and silent, as he says goodbye

Deer stand frozen with their ears forward listening

Noises follow his steps as he retreats, further hidden

Hidden, like the back side of the moon

He reins in his feelings, sharply cutting

The leaves bent under his torn feet

Only he knows the intent bourne so sure

From which his motions are forward taken

He’s focused, he’s sure, he’s decided his fate, his passion

He will no longer endure these unrelenting violent forces

The voices in his head stand still, his body tense in motion

He fights against the complacency that numbs his mind,

His body now moves like a machete, cutting through the pain

No longer questioning what he is doing, rather, he moves

Instinctually knowing without thought, word, or deed

Gathering his momentum, known from graceful motion,

He shines brightly against the outcast shadows of his soul

Upon the earth risen to meet his feet prancing, dancing

Feeling life on the back side of the moon, standing,

Feeling, hidden, not seen, but felt surrounded and guarded

His mission to kill the hate that swirls around his body

Solidly brazen, he meets the quiet with his resonating beat

Piercing through the veil of hidden truths yet undiscovered

His existence now known

The back side of the moon not seen but felt forever hidden

The answer to his being

He is here, he says, never to move into the light seen

Yet, present, here, known as the unseen, expressed

Still, he now understands the upwelling so despairing

Passionate, alive, felt always within, alone

No importance, no senses lessen determine his purpose

To be here and understand the merging of his whole

Thanks to the others who stand as shadows to his senses

No more wrath, no more despair, now only foresight

Departing is no longer taken in haste, in fear

His heartbeat slows in the quiet recesses of his being

This is important, this is a distance not voiced

Now, turning, walking, standing and knowing

The answer to his existence

Now known

This is life lived fully and passionately

In all its total glory felt

on both sides of the moon

cmc 8/31/17