Your Moon
The moon triggers ancient worship
in the soul of your eternal curiosity.
It goes unnoticed for most of us.
But your eyes howl with admiration
when it rises bright in the black sky
or fades white in blue day.
Or they look longingly, “Oh no!”
when your lunar mind sparks
at an odd hour of position
or a hiding game of clouds and horizon.
But you find a way!
You are the writer of the night
that assigns the sky’s tenants meaning,
and not the other way.
You are not like the tides
because you do not retreat.
Or the Earth —
You do not tilt.
You are not like anything
that has rules or boundaries
or definition.
I’ve seen those limits fail
when my mind scatters
in the space of your wondrous gaze.
And, like the moon,
all I do is reflect your light
to draw your eyes
and rise another day.
— for my daughter, Ariana.
