So many poems versed to address you.
So many songs created under your inspiration.
Have they been observing clearly?
So close to realize that the moon depicts “Mother and Child.”
The hand that rocks the cradle.
The hand that gently puts me to sleep.
Cold needles and fangs seep in my skin.
My consciousness blurring.
Putting her at risk but I called her name.
I stretched out my hands trying to look for help.
And right on cue, there she was.
Holding me and shedding some light.
A living proof of connection.
A combination of strong will and soft demeanor.
To each and every encounter in conjunction.
A never-ending tale.
My fascination will not stop.
And that ‘s because the moon is a she.
photo: Stefan Seip (apod.nasa.gov)