The Moon

She rises softly in the quiet sky,

A silver whisper, a dreaming eye.

She listens close when the world is still,

And paints our hearts with a gentle chill.

The moon, a mirror of all we hide,

Our tears, our hopes, the pain inside.

She’s been the witness through endless years,

Of lovers’ sighs and travelers’ fears.

Her glow touches mountains, oceans, sand,

As if she’s reaching with a mother’s hand.

To every soul who feels alone,

She hums a song — you’re never on your own.

She changes shape but never fades,

Her beauty blooms in different shades.

From crescent dreams to a full embrace,

She teaches light from the darkest place.

When nights are heavy and hearts are torn,

She stays above — calm, reborn.

And even when clouds hide her face,

Her light still lingers, soft with grace.

So when you gaze into her silver hue,

Remember — she’s watching over you.

The moon reminds the tired and true:

Even in darkness, you can shine too.

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