by ROBERT C.
I wake at the ungodly,
Yet heaven-like hours of the day,
And watch as the moon,
Still in the sky makes its way,
Down to the Earth,
At the breaking of dawn,
And glistens upon the dew,
Cast upon the lawn.
Out in the open
And up in the clouds
The moon likes to hide
Beneath a dark shroud
Of a mystical mist,
And hide the true story
Of its astounding aura
And all of its glory.
The moon’s pale glimmer,
And penetrating light,
Pierces those clouds
With all of its might.
The moon king must end his term
And descend in the sky.
It was such a good thing,
To which I hate to say good bye.
Though all good things
Must come to an end.
For the sun must make its way,
Out to defend,
Its own terrain,
And rule the night sky,
As new shades of colors
Appeal to my eye.
First there is orange,
Then a light pink.
And finally blue,
When the moon starts to sink.
Such brilliance astounds me,
And yet it remains enigmatic,
Why such a normal phenomenon
Leaves me so ecstatic.
Undaunted, light pierces buildings,
And cast shadows upon the ground.
The moon has come and gone,
Without ever making a sound.
The stars have been stolen,
For the remainder of the day,
Thanks to the sun
Who finally made its way,
To the top of the Earth,
And boasts all its might.
The day has just started,
And brought an end to the night.
With a resilient aura
And a vivid hue of blue,
It covers up the sky,
And dries up all the dew.
The rays reach their arms out
Caressing the Earth,
Continuing the cycle,
Of death and rebirth.
A true life’s lesson
is learned from the change
from dreamy darkness
to a sunny sun-risen range.
I, myself wonder,
If I were the sun,
Would I bother to reach out,
And warm everyone?
Or perhaps I’d be cold,
And lifeless like the moon.
And pass by silently,
Without ever emitting a tune.
Regardless of that,
The cycle persists.
Only existing,
To allow us to exist.
I watch as this happens,
Night after day,
The cycle continues onward,
Never fading away.
