To The Moon

Have I ever walked on dust as fine as this,
On the glowing moon, where the
Sky is nothing but stars
And the earth a ball of blue flame?

Here I'm pulled, not down, but up—
And my heart doesn't sink—it floats
To the surface of the great, bright plane
Where the nights are always as day,
And the days are always as night.

I've been here before—
No, never.  But the memory exists
Like ink on the pages of the book
Before ever it was opened a first time.

They think this place only glows
When viewed from beneath;
But the light here is different—
Far much brighter than I've ever seen—
And brightest in the depths
Of the deepest, darkest craters.

This soil brings new life that the
Shaky earth failed to bring,
When the birds cried out for it
And the willow trees begged on bended knee.

Here, I can breathe in forever—
And trees don't need the wind to move,
And the birds don't land to catch their breath.
Here I'll stay—only to exhale
To melt the hoar frost, when
The world at last ices over.