23.1.11

full moon

I asked the moon what she thought
That night the Son died.
She didn't say anything for a while.
Just hung there
And let a passing cloud cover her glow.

When she finally spoke, she said--carefully--
The Son?
She glided a moment more.  Then,
I always shine brightest on the darkest of nights.
Why? she said.
Because of the Son.

And that night was my brightest night.