When the Moon First Spoke

Wandering over ashen hills
A forest’s breath of nightly chills.
My face was cold, my mind aglow.
So much was there I sought to know!
I stretched my hands up to the dark
Guided by nature’s campfire, a starlight spark.
Then in the silence, I dared speak.
Though my voice was strong,
The sound was weak.

“Particle filament drifting wayward,
Where has your sunshine gone?
Dust settling upon the beaten ground,
Why do you cast no shadow?
Lights of the skies inside my eyes,
What do you reflect?
Glimmering and glistening, an impression from above
Are you of hate, of war, of… love?”

Then the moon glow bent down to me
And whispered frosted sunshine into my soul.
“Little one of dust and tears
I am neither, listen, hear…
I know little of hate or war.
Love to me was never given before.
But I transpose what I do see,
And this is the light given to me.

Sunshine saw my barren earth
Tipping toward a world of warmth.
And so it sent upon me light
To be a beacon in the night.

That is why, little one, I do not know.
I only mirror what I am shown.
But they are good things, I do dare hope.
How could I know from my eclipsed scope?

My vantage high, my vantage cold,
In this ground is trust I hold.
Little things and large dreams
Fill your heart till stretch its seams.

And then one night come back to me,
And share all the things that you have seen.
Show me life and light and love.
And I will know from far above.

You speak of love; you speak of war.
Learn of joy and grief and more.
Fill your heart, you evanescent earth,
And gaze with your own eyes
Upon all the life I see from the skies.”

Then the moon blew back faraway
And brought me sunshine, brought me day.
Upon the ground dew had formed
Moonlight’s tears now sunlight warmed.

Then I knew what I wanted to find
To mirror light
To bring back love
To the moon’s place far above.

I took one step and then one more.
I understood what the moon’s voice was for.
To tug our hopes,
To remind our mind
Of all it is we dream inside.

Brightening our shadows
Until our slumbering aspirations awoke
This its silvan light illuminated
When the moon first spoke.


S. F. Austin High School

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