The evening moon shines down turning her ear to long ago
Listening for a weary spirit that walks unheard
She smiles to herself as if she knows
Why those clouds drifting by
Say not a word

These silent hours fill all the earth and sky revealing
All the past and future’s passions
Yet, that evening moon for these feelings
Has no interest as she listens
In her own fashion

A weary spirit walks by unheard in these silent hours
Trying with certain steps not to speak
Smiling to himself as he holds wisdom’s showers
In those clouds drifting by
In silent streaks

The evening moon may turn her ear to long ago
To hear that which walks unheard
But if she has no interest in what she does not know
All those clouds drifting by
Will not say a word