Darkness visible

Christian Century, Oct 10, 2001 by J. Barrie Shepherd

   Last night's October Hunter's Moon
   fell full and free across our stubbled fields
   and close-cropped lawns, lighting a way
   for that more ancient, deadly breed
   of harvesters to garner flesh and blood,
   the protein-laden flavor of delight,
   filling out the field crops and the fruits
   of their plenished winter larders.

   I caught it's rise, watched it's first
   steep clambering up the frosting sky,
   while walking our two terriers along
   the fringes of the wood just before bedtime.
   Then, rising in what ought to be the darkest hours
   for a glass of spring fresh water,
   was both ambushed and amazed by its almost
   daytime clear yet otherworldly luminescence
   shining now from the opposite side of the copse,
   cloud bracketed among stars, and sailing home,
   as if across some deep blue, island-studded bay,
   toward harbored sunrise.

   A shiver took me by surprise
   where I stood spellbound, sliding glass door
   half opened to uncanny radiance beyond.
   The predawn chill of autumn surely, or perhaps
   the shadowed footfall quiver of that taut
   primeval archer reaching back, then stretching,
   drawing to let fly some swift and sudden
   fate toward his unsuspecting quarry.