Poem: The Sacred Moon

The moon hangs low, a trembling face,
A shadow in the starry space.
Its silver glow, once bright and bold,
Now shivers soft, and fades to cold.

It hides behind a veil of cloud,
Whispering secrets, soft, and loud,
Of ancient nights, of battles past,
Of times when light was meant to last.

The wind it calls, the trees they sway,
Yet still the moon has lost its way.
A flicker in its cratered eye,
A silent tear that won’t deny.

For in its glow, a fear resides,
A fear of darkness, deep inside.
What if the stars should all depart?
What if the night should break its heart?

It trembles in the heavens wide,
A witness to the ocean’s tide,
Afraid of every shadow’s trace,
Of what may come, of what may chase.

Yet still, it hangs there, pale and pure,
A light that speaks of something sure:
That even in the darkest hour,
The scared moon holds a secret power.

For fear is something we all know,
A part of life that helps us grow.
And though the moon may hide away,
Its light will always find its way.

So, when you see it dim and scared,
Know that it’s simply being shared—
The fear that makes us all take pause,
Yet teaches us to trust the cause.

For after night, the dawn will rise,
And fear will fade, as light fills the skies.
The scared moon knows this truth so bright—
That darkness always bows to the light.

Thank-you for reading.

Much Love and light,

Brenda Marie