Moon On the Run
While moonlight fades from day parades
for battles lost or won;
and city lights show dimly bright
their nightly random glow,
we tell the tales of mystery
as minstrel songs are sung
to spirits of the silent night
reconstituting Poe.
Compassionate communion made
as all await the sun,
with glasses raised in fare-thee-well
to moonlight on the run.
Now listen to the west wind blow
the lonely poplar twig,
as brittle leaves in trees begin
to rattle with the flow.
We gather up a cord of wood
for fire and make it big;
but just enough to warm the soul
as flame and fire burn slow.
The liquid blue cathedral sheen
of countless silver stars
shines bright infusing light tonight
as part of God's routine
and we, uniquely blessed with so
much more than less by far
now gather here to share each year
this loving, joyous scene.
A bold and young astronomer
observes the red orb Mars;
he looks with pride and points straight up
then blows a kiss to stars -
a young man more excited
with his universe than cars.
We join in friendship circle
here and pledge our common soul
as each and every member sends
a special thought to God.
I feel the thrust of nature like
a bud to blossom whole
and gaze at space until the blur
of blue is just facade -
a universal miracle
like diamonds formed from coal
are equal to not better than
the lowest locust pod.
Compassionate communion made,
as we await the sun,
with glasses raised in fare-thee-well
to moonlight on the run.
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