Night falls.
It’s time for a conversation with the moon.
Its reflection upon the silky pond.
Crescent smile beams for me.
Hoot, hoot goes the owl perched up high,
Letting me know that I’m not alone,
For shadows watch me, a curiosity.
Deep into the forest, to man unknown,
I speak with the moon.
Today I brought tears for it to drink,
As they drop onto the water, sending
Ripples of emotion.
I want the moon to tell me who I am.
It’s been here for eons, surely it must know.
Sometimes silence speaks the loudest,
The moon told me.
It said to listen, and listen closely.
At first all I heard was the forest’s
Harmony of critters and swaying trees.
But then I heard it.
I heard the cooing of my mother
As she cradled me in her arms.
I heard my father’s proud pat on my back.
I heard the adulation of my peers.
But then a dark cloud blocked the
Crescent smile before me.
I then heard the demon within me.
I heard it call me for who I was.
A luscious red apple with a rotten core.
A man with a filthy secret
A man afraid of what awaits him.
A man disgusted of what he’s become.
The dark cloud went on its way,
Crescent smile came to my rescue,
For I heard hope.
What does hope sound like?
Well, it’s the laughter of a friend
Who accepts you for who you are.
It’s the rooster’s crow signaling
A new tomorrow rising with the sun.
The crescent smile beamed once again.
I’ve found myself with the moon’s song.