Ghazal 2

When finally I think I choose somewhere to sit and pray,
out of the late blue of the evening sky appears the moon.

I find myself sitting in an old wooden chair framed by
a doorway - through which I see the garden - where rears
the moon.

There is nothing but surprise – and with a laugh – that I
greet
the sight of myself seen seeing such a grand seeming
moon.

This is beautiful and this beauty also my error;
A quiet nod to perspective rather than screaming “Moon!”

Tim says: he’d be wiser is he’d seen you rising tonight,
not the face of a just rousing foolish and beaming moon.