The moon stays constant in the sky,
Reflecting sunshine here,
As little children ask God why
The moonbeams seem so clear...
And lovers hold each other's hands,
God's moon still granting light,
That few on Earth still understands
Why that moon shines each night...
Yet there it flies, full speed ahead,
Surrounded by God's stars,
His centrepiece that's good as dead,
Yet still remains first class...
Because it serves without complaint,
An orphan, all alone,
No golden rings so it looks quaint,
Like Saturn, so well-known....
A faithful servant, if you will,
The moon brings weight to bear,
Controlling all the tides that spill
And rise again elsewhere...
Such that the awesome oceans move
According to its might,
So it has nothing left to prove,
It merely does what's right...
Some say men walked upon the moon,
Some say that was a lie,
I'm staying here, not going soon,
Like all flesh, meant to die...
Yet that old moon, though dead, endures,
Without the air to breathe,
To glide around on distant tours,
Yet Earth it must not leave...
It's found a home, this world to share,
Companions on the way,
Around the sun, its heat, its glare,
Millenia to stay...
A thousand years will come and go,
The moon defies them all,
Because the Lord declares it so,
Our moon's not meant to fall...
Behold the moon through telescopes,
Behold its battered frame,
Behold the emblem of Man's hopes,
Still shining all the same...
It represents a childlike faith,
Enduring time and space,
Accepting all the strength God gave,
A symbol of God's grace...
Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2013.
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