Moonbeams and Poetry: For Those Whose Ears Are Pricked and Tongues That Are Long-Drawn

This composition scuttles from there to here with unpronounceable spaces in between. I suggest you read it with a sense of youthful whimsy and curiosity, and if these little ditties don’t comport with your understanding of the universe, you may do what I sometimes do.

When I wonder why, after applying noteworthy effort, some idea just still isn’t where I can grasp it, I cant my face toward the night sky and look upward, seeking an audience with the nearest moonbeam, hoping it holds the answer up there, somewhere, waiting.