The moon is a beautiful thing
This big and bold gleaming grey rock hovering amongst the stars in a clear sky
Something so simple yet has the power to illuminate skies
And form waves like Poseidon himself
But best of all
To me personally
It acts as a beacon of hope  
The eyes of great men, strong men
All those with trials and tribulations
That shaped this very world
Have at least once gazed up to that moon
Like me they felt small
Yet they persisted and made something special
That will forever be echoed to its craters and back
My existence unexplained and a purpose not assured
In this insignificant position
Which at one stage those great individuals found themselves
I am reminded that I too possess the potential to achieve what they have
maybe greater
And like them
My name could echo for a thousand years
On the very same craters
I ponder as I stare at the moon
as they did.