Shining moon,
what beckoned you
from ‘hind that hazy cloud?
To show your face,
to shine down bright,
to cut the night in ribbons white?

Glowing moon,
what summoned you
from Earth’s far side this night?
To cast shadows
amongst the trees?
Illuminate the haunting breeze?

Radiant moon,
what called to you
to tend this quiet dusk?
To kiss the grass,
to blanket all,
to glide through window, home, and hall?

Perfect moon,
why hang you there
adrift in starry seas?
To light my way,
to watch me sleep,
to guard me while I’m dreaming deep?

Silent moon.
No answers come.
A quiet companion
who does not speak,
but merely shines
bright shafts of beauty through the pines.