The Moon Deserves a Poem

The moon deserves a poem

Yet, I can’t find words

For its hold on me.

I see it rise in the darkening night

Appearing as a crescent sliver

Changing to a full shining sphere

Whose brightness lights up the sky

And my dreams.

Whose waxing and waning

Marks time and controls the tides

And fuels my imagination.

 

I saw a man walk on the moon once

But my spacewalk is of another kind.

When the moon is round

And mysterious patches of land

Map its glowing surface

I am transported on a magic carpet

To craters in my soul

Or spirited away to friendly shores

Where demons are drenched in diamond dust

And I find rest

In the grace of its gentle light.

 

At night, after each new day,

The moon is my quiet place.

When the evening descends

It shines brighter than all the stars

Its lush beams bringing peace

Casting a mood for loving

Over all the earth

Signaling a time

For that other world

That opens up with sleep

To have its sway.

When I seek light to fill my being,

It is not the sun’s rays I invite in

But the moon’s beams

Purifying, healing, holy,

So far away and yet, so close.

Divine grace.

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