It never ceases to amaze me how enamored I am by the moon.
There's some sort of energetic mystical connection to my soul.
The way it  illuminates the darkness. It's mere poetic existence. It's breath taking.

It reminds me of who I am.
It whispers to me through the shadows.

As are the phases of life, the moon tells a similar story.

Unable to show the world her true potential. For even on the fullest of nights, when she's shining in all her magnificent glory, there still remains a darkness unseen. Unexplored. To that of which no man may ever see. The dark side that she keeps locked away.

She lets the sun dictate her beauty. She knows it's always there, but she won't shine without his light giving her courage to be seen.
And even then, with all his radiating love exposing her magnificence, she still conceals her darkness. It's her mystery. Always there hiding behind her entrancing allure.

Her mere existence makes waves. She can cloak herself in darkness yet the tide still pulls, longing to reach her. Desperate to get closer.

She's never whole for long. Her courage seems to dissipate soon after he leaves. Completeness is soon replaced with an empty sky. For in an ever changing universe there must always be highs and lows. Phases of life entrapped in a never ending cycle.

You may not always feel whole, but there's someone out there that still loves you when you're shrouded in darkness, that will seek you out when you're incomplete. For even a crescent is beautiful when you know what the shadows conceal.