I love the moon – her white and pock-marked face
Appears at night and in the early morn
To watch the blue-green marble set in space
As would a parent watch over new-born.
And though at times, her face does turn away,
her beauty hidden in the shadows deep,
I see the invitation: follow, play
and hear the reminder: promises, keep.
I love the moon – but cannot hold her close;
I cannot touch her, nor swim in gray sea.
Yet my love wanes to wax verbose –
I love the moon and know that she loves me.
Gloria Patri, et Filio: et Spiritui sancto.
Sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper: et in saecula saeculorum, Amen.