This night
go outside to find yourself
caught in the spotlight of our
only natural satellite,
inhale yourself illumined in light
reflected by our star, as Da Vinci’s
wild imagination postulated
500 years ago.

The full moon embraced in the arms
of the crescent, he said, is
earthshine. If you could stand
on the lunar surface, as a dozen
earthlings have, your shadow would
be cast by your home planet.

As it is, all you can do is go outside
this night and find yourself joyfully
caught in full moonshine, a bit woozy
at the sight of your shadow self
splayed upon the ground. Admire
your constant chaperone, your
devoted consort that coexists,
envelops, protects.

Who is to say that’s not your soul?

Walk toward it and watch it
edge away. Kneel and touch it,
your shadow soul self.
Bless that part of you
that transcends death for now;
thank the heavens for the shroud
that accompanies you through
the eclipse of this lifetime—
oh, so brief, so dim,

the penumbra shadowing
your celestial body,
your silhouette of mystery,
this night, each precious day.