” The moon is dead. Your soul went to the moon, to the preserver of souls.
Thus the soul moved toward death” C. Jung
Man should not go to the moon
only souls making their first migration
stopping over to check their destination
anxious ticket holders in the terminal lounge
when the lunar isle is packed with travellers
she turns full circle and beams collective memories
faces of course, an old man, banyan tree
rabbit mixing cakes of immortality*
even if the runes are least auspicious
a few pilgrims sojourn in that quarter light
devotees and the hell-bent followers
of beautiful Beulah and forever afters
most men are magnetically earth bound
drawn only to her opalesencent orb in art
muchado their songs of romance
no more nor less than mooncalf mania
yet how our ghostly satellite entrances
cynosure of the enlightened spirit
perhaps we visit you in dreams
like vacationers browsing the brochures
©Laura Granby 2016
*people perceive different moon pareidolia according to their culture and hemisphere
Giving Jung a whirl as Grace takes us moon-musing with this week’s ‘Poetics‘
PoetryPix 
This is fantastic… I love the way you paint opalescent magic across the moon… no we destroy it with our footprints I think
yes it is a place for souls not soles!
Love that last image, especially, of vacationers browsing the brochures…
its what I wanted to say but wondered if it wasn’t a rather clumsy sounding ending
I like your opening verse with the travelers in the “terminal lounge”…very clever in so much of your poem…also love the idea of “collective memories”…mystical! Totally enjoyed this!
no Jung inspired poem can do without the collective memories 😉 thank you – lovely comment
Right! And you’re welcome. 🙂
A surreal take on the prompt. I like the idea of travelling to the moon, and vacationers browsing the brochures. Thanks for joining us Laura.
I got carried away Grace and only afterwards realised your prompt required a more anthropomorphic take on the moon so thank you for being so gracious
… yet how our ghostly satellite entrances
cynosure of the enlightened spirit
perhaps we visit you in dreams …
Our psyches are hardened travelers through the land of bone, every dream a lunar escapade, every loss a proscenium to baleful wonder. Loved the quote from Jung.
depth psychology in your comments Brendan – a joy to read
this is evocative: “stopping over to check their destination
anxious ticket holders in the terminal lounge”
love the rabbit too =)
until now had not considered others saw ‘the man in the moon’ – thank you lucy
Love the surrealism in this poem… so beautifully done ❤
moon trips are always surreal Sanaa 😉
Nice take on the prompt. I especially like the last 2 lines: “perhaps we visit you in dreams/
like vacationers browsing the brochures”
and thank you taking a trip here Maria