I have always loved the moon.
The way the earth bathes in the light of her ethereal glow,
The way she casts her silver glance on every creek, river, pond, and lake,
Every ocean and rolling wave.
The way her shimmering reflection on a still night feels like falling in love,
And the way she breathes new life into every creature under the jealous sun.
But tonight, she is angry.
Glowing round and red as we chip away at her likeness,
Leaving a hole in her heart, ever expanding even as her color deepens.
She weeps tears of blood as her own children betray her.
Tired now, but she persists,
Presiding over the world, casting her light until the very instant in which she is extinguished.
‘But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?’
Creeping back in, mere hours before the sun,
Master of day,
Is sure to push her out.
She has calmed now, melting like wax under his fiery gaze.
But it is she who controls the waters and it is she alone who knows how to harness their power,
for it is hers.