When The Moon Found Me

Dear Moon,

It was an old house — once big, once bright,

its yard lay quiet, veiled in snow.

Once someone’s home, once filled with light,

now hushed beneath your gentle glow.

The foundation cracked, and winter sighed,

breathing through walls that long forgot.

It hummed of warmth the years had died,

and whispered loss the wind had caught.

There lived a girl, just nine in years,

her soul as fractured as that place.

A heart that drowned in unheard tears,

no love to heal, no soft embrace.

Two weeks till Christmas, yet no song,

no laughter danced within that room.

The only fire that burned so strong

was pain that seared her into gloom.

She learned no tears when darkness came,

no fight when footsteps reached her bed.

She bore the weight, she took the shame,

while that woman watched with eyes long dead.

She knew not to look to the woman she called mother,

whose eyes watched with a distinct lack of horror.

Instead, she turned away from them,

where silver spilled through broken stone.

The stars bowed low; the world went dim,

and she was yours, and yours alone.

You heard the words she could not say,

you took her hand, so small, so weak.

You led her gently toward the day,

to find the dawn her soul would seek.

And time moved on, as time will do,

the seasons turned, the child grew tall.

But always she remembered you—

the light that answered every call.

Through shattered years and borrowed homes,

through faces kind and faces cold,

your silver voice would find her bones

and sing the lullabies of old.

When shadows rose, she called your name;

your silver hush restored her breath.

You are the pulse within her flame,

the peace that pulled her back from death.

You’ve watched her stumble, watched her stand,

and shone when she forgot to pray.

No temple holds your quiet hand,

yet still she kneels beneath your ray.

The world may doubt, the world may fade,

but you, her constant, never do.

For every wish that child had made

was answered softly—answered you.

So should her heart grow dim again,

and mercy seem too far to see,

she’ll lift her eyes where you have been—

and know your magic forever shall be.

With all the love you gave to she,

the child you found still lives in me.

— Yours eternally