The Super Blood Wolf Moon was on everyone’s minds last night, at least here on the east coast. I will admit to having slept through it, but I woke this morning to find photos of the spectacle littering my social media feed. As I drove in to work this morning (yes, I have to work today...) I saw that huge moon, still in the sky, competing with the rising sun. The confluence seemed a good metaphor for the man that today’s holiday celebrates and for the unfinished work of racial reconciliation that continues to this day. We are still in between, between the proclamation of the Dream and it’s realization in a new day of peace, justice, and equity. Sometimes the light intrudes upon the night. And sometimes the night intrudes upon the light. And so today, a poem in honor of Dr. King, whose light intrudes upon the night of racism
King Day 2019 (January 21, 2019)
We find ourselves, as ever,
trapped between the coming and the going,
between the rise of day and the setting of night.
Except in those odd moments, where the two meet,
where Super Moons are obscured,
their brilliance bloodied by the intrusion of daybreak,
where day and night fight for dominance in the same sky,
out competing one another for the love of heaven and earth.
And we, terrestrial bound, gaze upon the struggle
and see in it the beauty
of both the meeting
and the parting.
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