The last full moon of the year, known as the Full Flower Moon, set behind the Statue of Liberty in New York on May 7. It was visible around the world from May 6 until the morning of May 8.
Tag Archives: sky
This was a poem I wrote in July of 1986, when I was on a poetry kick. My inspiration was – would you believe? – lightning in the night sky. My father induced respect and admiration for lightning in me when I was little. Like most small children, I was terrified of lightning and thunder. But my father picked me up one night and carried me to a window. He pulled open the drapes and yanked up the blinds – and told me not to be scared. Lightning and thunder were just part of nature and nothing to be feared. Respected, yes, but not feared. They were born from the hands of the Great Creator. From then on, I was never afraid of lightning or thunder again.
My father had acquired veneration for all of Earth’s natural forces from his own father who would open the drapes as a lightning storm rampaged overheard. By contrast my grandmother was terrified and ran around the house clutching a rosary, lighting candles and ordering everyone to pray; that this is how the world will end: lightning, thunder, wind, rain – all at once and merciless. Of course, that may be true. But who are we to tell the Earth what to do with its tools?
My grandfather apparently displayed a sadistic streak, as his frazzled wife scampered from room to room. “Yes,” he’d tell her. “I just heard a report on the radio that a tornado is headed this way and sweeping up all women over age 40.”
Oh lightning angel.
Please smile at me.
Crackle in the caverns of that purple-black sky.
Glisten your rods of orange fire,
Whisper to me amidst vicious winds.
Please smile once more at me.
I hear your softened sensations,
And cower against your powerful heart.
Sweep my soul and steel my lungs.
Favorite of all our elements.
Looking at you from this shrinking Earth.
To your crystalline patterns.
Designs of your own creation.
Yes, lightning angel.
Gentle and sweet.
Yet you display your might.
Flashing over the silhouettes of quiet plants.
Cover my meager form on this deserted road.
Breathe your whiteness through the swollen clouds.
I reach out to you.
And wish you could take me,
Retreating back into this clouds.
But you’re alone,
In your own dimension,
In your own universe.
So I beg you please,
Just bless me with one last flare,
Before you melt,
Into that sky,
Oh lightning angel.
Image: Colt Forney Photography
This is a version of a poem I first composed in February 1983, when I was 19. It reveals my long-held passion for the color black, oceans, wind and the moon. It also highlights my obsession for women with long hair, especially long black hair.
Deepest darkest as the night.
I have no fear.
I feel no fright.
I see your face,
With the crescent moon’s light.
And I see your hair,
In this coal black night.
I wince through the shadows,
Your tresses glisten with streaks of blue.
A river of indigo,
It makes me coo.
I must concede,
I still lust for you.
Standing on this cliff of immense height,
I remain awed with your porcelain beauty,
And owls take flight.
Your eyes gaze wickedly delicious,
From a face so blessed and kind.
My heart thunders.
What dreams do you have in mind?
The moon we both love lingers above the sea.
I feel a surge of blood within my soul.
Are you wanting to set me free?
I still want to touch that waterfall of hair,
Hold you tight,
And assure you I really do care.
Your sapphire follicles caressed by the winds.
The onyx sky bears no cloud,
A theater of stars dancing above,
Happy and proud.
They accentuate your face,
And tumble through that mass of hair.
I reach to touch you.
But I shall not dare.
You kiss the breeze and start for the sea.
Please look back.
Do you have any love for me?
But you wince and you taunt.
Deep in my heart,
You forever haunt.
“Perhaps,” you whisper,
Coy and bright.
And I remain enamored,
On this coal black night.
© 2018 Alejandro De La Garza
Bottom image by Alex Cherry.