As we approach the Harvest Moon on October 6, 2006, I'm reminded once again of our trip there--of how impossible it would seem to the Romans, who named her Diana, that we could stand upon a goddess. Archibald MacLeish is another of my favorite poets, and in this one he ponders this amazing sight of an Earth seen from the moon.

VOYAGE TO THE MOON
Archibald MacLeish

Presence among us,

wanderer in our skies,
dazzle of silver in our leaves and on our
waters silver,

silver evasion in our farthest thought—
"the visiting moon". . ."the glimpses of the moon". . .

and we have touched you!

From the first of time,
before the first of time, before the
first men tasted time, we thought of you.
You were a wonder to us, unattainable,
a longing past the reach of longing,
a light beyond our light, our lives—perhaps
a meaning to us. . .

Now
our hands have touched you in your depth of night.

Three days and three nights we journeyed,
steered by farthest stars, climbed outward,
crossed the invisible tide-rip where the floating dust
falls one way or other down, encountered
cold, faced death—unfathomable emptiness. . .

Then, the fourth day evening, we descended,
made fast, set foot at dawn upon your beaches,
sifted between our fingers your cold sand.

We stand here in the dusk, the cold, the silence. . .

and here, as at the first of time, we lift our heads.
Over us, more beautiful than the moon, a
moon, a wonder to us, unattainable,
a longing past the reach of longing,
a light beyond our light, our lives—perhaps
a meaning to us. . .

O, a meaning!

over us on these silent beaches the bright
earth,
presence among us.