Curving toward the center

A singing bird woke me in the middle of the night,
one lone voice trilling through the stillness:
Annoyed, I stumbled to the bathroom –
what is wrong with this crazy bird, why won’t it shut up
but upon my return,
I saw a rectangle of moonlight bright upon my carpet
and I peeked out the window:
the moon
full and resplendent, haunting, poised;
my heart lifted as I saw that luminous face,
so elegant and generous, shedding all shyness
I was stunned at her sheer nobility
and the universe suddenly made a little more sense;
through the darkness, that one bursting voice of adulation
– only one? –
Yes, little love, yes: sing on

© Crystal Chan