When yet another day is done,
The moon takes on light from the sun,
Phase to phase it seems to shift—
But not on its own, and never to drift—
In its place, it takes on a pull,
Even if hidden in nights, dark and cool.
Does the chill seem stronger when reflection isn’t seen?
Do tears fall faster under moon’s pointed gleam?
Do beams of evening glow reach all but I?
Not stark light, instead the night— cast over my mind?
Do meteors know where to hit even without lunar gaze?
Will heavy, turbulent rocks always mark and graze?
Are my wounds even visible in the long night?
Or only to be real when day comes at light?
Does light ever come— the dawn marred by clouds.
Do you hear my short breath, my shaking hands and doubt?
Do you even see with fiery gaze— how could you possibly?
Darkness like light to you, you must be too far from me.
There is only shadow and shard and shade,
How long, O God, will you hide your face?
Take my sight.
It’s utterly useless, unilluminated.
God I lay here, broken, in my room again.
Night after night. Will morning ever come?
Do you hear the mourning of daughter without sun?
I would take on more, already prodded and poked,
If only for light from heaven, if breath of God spoke—
Would you send me stars, if not a reflection of the Son?
Would you show me light and tell me that day has come?
Would you speak at all? Even a voice, still and small?
How sweet would it be to be beckoned in call.
Would it all be worth it, to be covered by you?
God, reveal, light and goodness and truth?
Can you reach into the depths of my being?
Would you conquer the hell, so unceasing?
God would you shine sun to the moon,
To give me a glimpse of the Son— rising soon?
Dec 29, 2025
Dec 29, 2025 at 7:38 PM UTC
Does the blood cover my tattered form?
Does it quench the blaze?
God how could you look at me—
With your ever-holy gaze?
Dec 28, 2025
Dec 28, 2025 at 6:11 PM UTC