O the moon, he knows no god
only the vast trajectory of falling
close and then away

mouthing, “O dear god,
forgive me the tide and silver light
that guides every misstep in the night.”

O the moon, he speaks no lucid thought
but twists around the  axis of our foundation
singing silence through the velvet caress of stars

mouthing, “O dear god,
forgive me every crater and the dust
that remembers every footstep.”

O the moon, he asks no prayer
but meditates upon the grayest sea
for the sake of holiness that may not be