COSTA RICAN MOON

The sky is full of Costa Rican moon.
And now I am alone.

Lost between moonlight and memories
I am revived
by the crackling modulation
of cicadas in the tree-tops;
a cacophony of chatter
that drown out
the harmonious sound
of raindrops on a metal roof.

I am steeped
in the pure wine of aliveness
but something wonderful is missing
at the edge of my moments.
Gone is that which once was,
tendrils of magic that clung
to everyone and everything around you
like a gentle breeze
before an impatient wind.

Try as I may,
through the sensory channels
of my mind and body,
I swallow but can’t fully taste
the intoxicating essence
of the rain-forest around me.

It is invisible,
this impermeable husk
wrapped around my soul,
but it is real,
and nothing but time
can soften the edges.

In broad daylight,
if I walk with you
in the shadows
of this forest on forest world,
I am able to see the light
that transcends time
and timelessness.

I am not unlike the coral snake
slithering on the forest floor,
or a golden orb web spider
with a filament stronger than steel.
We all have our place.

Even the strawberry poison dart frog
and the dangerous bullet ant belong
and are friends
at an aesthetic distance
and are as beautiful as the iridescent
blue morpho butterfly
in flight oras resplendent as the colorful
giant bill of a toucan
or the cackling call of
a laughing falcon
stalking
a coral snake.

I can walk suspended bridges
over raging rivers
to visit sloths
and howler monkeys,
but lack equilibrium
and child-like wonderment
without my counterbalance
at my side.

Alone, I can soak
in volcanic hot springs
and still be cool to the touch.
Or watch an active volcano
in the golden lava-like night,
and be intrigued
but not amazed.

Like the scarlet macaws
in the mangrove forests,
I was mated for life,
and meant to fly
as part of a pair.

But solo I will,
to the moon if I must,
to see your smile
one more time,
and to find
the clarity
of my own.

© JOHN PISCATELLA