To Luna

I was a child for all of a day.

And the thing is, I was not interrupted,

the way some are so unfortunate,

to be transplanted in the loam of reality

by some sinister hand

all too early.

I was only too open for my own good.

Took it all in, the way voids tend to do.

I am an aperture of all that

transpires

in this place where such a word can exist.

How could I have stayed young for long?

It was never a thing worth mourning until

I saw the innocence reflected in

you,

My Luna.

I hope you play forever,

and sing the way we do.

I hope you are never interrupted,

and that I’m strong enough to give you to

your own orbit,

Because while I see my entirety in you,

You are

Something all your own.

Something to which I can never lay claim.

Something tells me you will cast

your light on more than I could ever.

Perhaps so much so

that you find a way to see so much,

and remain a child all the same;