MOON PROMISE

“I made a promise to the moon,” she said.

“I can’t share it with you.” She was watching

the moon as I watched her, then it. It bled

dark gold, like molten metal, stars catching

its fire. I imagined her whisper sworn

to write poetry, like Bishop, or to

chastity, like Virgin Queen, psyche torn

between passion for humans or verse. Who

or what would I choose? I long for each one,

feel them vital.  Surely she must. I held

back from questions, from uttering a word.

I curled my arm around her shoulder. Felt

her body press to mine. I longed to grow old

with her. Above us, a passing cloud burned gold.

Roger Armbrust

December 26, 2019

PRAYER

Guide us in caring for water and air

for earth and each other. Thank you for crops

you raise to feed each life, for weather fair

and foul, showing energy never stops,

but challenges senses to stay in touch

with Great Reality. When we fear life

and death or poverty, struggle to clutch

all matter, show us what matters. Our sight

clouds so quickly. Our minds hide from our hearts.

Only your invisible hand, it seems, will

touch and clear our path, ease our plight. What starts

as thought or feeling moves to action. Still

it all begins and ends with unseen caress

of your spirit guiding us, whispering “Bless…”

Roger Armbrust

December 16, 2019