If I Sang To The Moon Would Not All The Stars Rejoice? Poem by Mark Heathcote

If I a shadow, hadn't stumbled over you
And made that gentle bow, like a blade of grass
Would you not of shimmered-like the morning dew?
For me; always and forever.

If the ocean makes the sand
Who made the moon-grains pearl?
Who made the mountain that stands?
Like a bottomless, hourglass
Reflecting-up - up but still below you.

If a reeling cloud dressed Venus, ethereal as a snow drift.
Would I just not undress to tremble, invisible, next to you?
Just to listen to my angels melting, tiptoes
Disappearing; with her jingles go.

If I sang to the moon, would not all the stars rejoice?
If a shadow hadn't stumbled over you
And took a bow like a blade of grass
Would you not of beheld me
Quaking in my splintering, boots of glass.

If I was a scarlet; sky, enfolding all your love.
Would you not turn the potter's wheel anti clockwise?
To make it slow… into an eternal clay catalyst.

If I sing to the moon, would not all the stars rejoice?
If the solar system and the wheels are kind,
And I say it with flowers
Would you not hear a brass band a symphony?
From; some long forgot starlit paradise.