Lunista Occludus

Lunista Occludus

As I type this
At 2:15 am
early Tuesday,
a black and white
phenomenon
is occurring
directly in front of my eyes:
a total lunar eclipse.

How is it
That this event—
not that uncommon,
is always
so fascinating?

To my delight,
the moon has risen
right in front
of my desk window.

With one eye
on the keyboard
and the other
to the sky,
I am marveling
as a larger and larger
bite
gets taken out
of this formerly electric
full moon,
causing
the surrounding woods
to dim
dramatically.

Opening my door
and stepping into
the forest
that shrouds my studio,
I realize
that it is the first time
I’ve been in such
a relatively isolated natural environment
while experiencing
this sight.

It deeply struck me
just how frightening
these inexplicable
skyward events were
to our ancestors,
whose lives were tethered
to the rise and fall
of the sun and moon.

Watching
an unidentifiable mass
of dark gray
begin to swallow
up the rock
above your head,
that which you have always
depended upon,
must have been
very scary.

Watching it
consume that orb
and then turn it
copper red
must have been nearly
terrifying.

Oh, the relief
they must have felt
in an hour
or so,
as the world
they knew
was returned to them.

Alex Shapiro August 2007