Why do you hide from me, so vehemently your secret?
Why do spin around me, smile at me, make me laugh, cry and wonder,
Without revealing your full self at all?
How do you fill me and cleans me so?
How do you effect the movement of every molecule in my body with your wax and wain,
Without ever even showing to me your darker side?
Who sees your furrows and ditches from a far?
Who gets to see what I don’t, and do they also see what I see from where they are?
Do you affect them so as you do me?
When will I accept what I already know to be true?
When will I realise that my body knows you completely without my eyes having ever seen you all?
And my body rests in a crescent bed.
What would happen I ask, if I was to to see you entire?
What of life would be the same as now – what of life would there even be?
If the tides receded and never broke again.
Where you cause and cure my ebb and flow,
Where my feelings of peace and dis-rest are both equally sacred I know,
that you will never turn your back on me.