Moon Dance

April 9, 2009 at 3:19 pm (Dominic Alapat, Poetry)


I felt a film of water

take my body.

Why does the light

do this, I wondered.

Who wrote my poem

this wild Thursday.

Help would be a freeing,

an endless rhythm

felt in the heart’s

dead hole, I thought.

And art, whose praises the

world sings, the heart’s gift

astir. So the film of water

is a prayer, I told myself,

and the world

the enchanted paradise

in tears. And light,

dark and light,

bearers of the rhythm.

Then the evening began,

collecting stars in

my pockets, and the city

sang like a bird,

and the moon

took me by my hand,

through the streets,

through the ghostly

grey buildings deep

in slumber and dream,

light and love,

and danced the night away.


– Dominic Alapat


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