A Letter To The Moon
Silver sentiel, silent sphere,
You've orbited through every year.
Your face a map of time's own gleam, Reflecting
every human dream. The lover's sighs, The warriors plight, Bathed in your impartial light.
You ask no questions, offer no reply.
Just watch ages flutter by. I imagine you listening, Your face a soft gleam. Reflecting the fragments of my waking dream. I wish for a garden, where colors can riot, and time is worthwhile. Not of Earth, but of star dust, a landscape unseen. Where thoughts take their form, vibrant and keen. With my thoughts in a whirl, I imagine a companion, someone who sees patterns in the dust motes that fly. And finds their own music in a lullaby.
Do you think wishes sent upwards, have anywhere to go? Or are they just echoes, that fade and than cease, Lost in the vastness, finding no peace? Moon, you are a pale disc, hung high serene, A silent observer, a cosmic queen.
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