Poetry From My Past

Montana’s Moon

A silent prayer

Autumn fruit heavy in the zenith of ripeness you hang in the sky like an emperor’s Japanese lantern unflinchingly orange undeniably mystic.

Who can behold your ancient countenance and be not moved to lusty adoration or silent reverence?

What poor barren soul passes through the night without blessing their eyes in your sacred light?

Now citrine and smaller alone in the sky yet indescribably connected to water and the womb you take me with you through silent perpetual orbits.

I have sought you in the land of the dreaming I have called you ‘lover’ in numerous tongues I throw wide the gates of my heart each time we meet.

Throw down your love Moon mother I welcome you unconditionally into my life.

Andrea Juillerat-Olvera, 1995