a poem about the moon

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         what is the moon

   what is the moon here to teach us,
what are it’s beams really for?
what does it see as it looks back at us,
as it watches our peace and our war?
   why does it hang in black darkness,
why does it seem so alone?
why does it constantly circle us all,
so faithful with hardly a groan?
how does its quietness speak to us,
how does its seasons change ours?
how does its rough battered face say so much,
how does it outshine the stars?
  does the moon ever think of us humans,
of the dumb funny things that we do?
does the sin of mankind ever sadden its core,
does love make it want to pull through?
  i’ve sat and i’ve watched it past bedtime,
i’ve asked it the questions i’ve had.
i’ve told to it most of my secrets,
it’s known when i’m happy or sad.
  just maybe it represents something,
something that we don’t deserve.
and maybe it represents Someone,
Someone who sees all our worth.
  it’s stands as a bright white reminder,
that He, our God, is always there.
through day and yes, even in darkness,
He hears each small broken prayer.
  so what is the moon, but a promise,
straight from its Maker above,
that though we may not always see Him,
He’s here – filling us with His love. 


  -the poet under the sidewalk-

Image result for the moon

love, midge





9 thoughts on “a poem about the moon

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