I have never known such tranquility as I watched the Moon looking down at me, almost caressingly washing me over with its little moonbeams. What a beautiful night. My mind clearer as the very day that the earth was formed. My spirit fresh as the morning springs that quenches the thirst of those that drinks from its abode. My soul strong like a mighty oak, firm and unyielding. Flesh youthful and prime.
What a beautiful night. Darkness seems to calm my soul. A tattered and worn-out soul seems so rejuvenated this quiet, sweet night. I remember vividly spending my most difficult years drawing on the energy of the Moon. It beckons me each time to look at it as I shed tears especially when I am alone, or even when I am missing myself.
“The moon is friend for the lonesome to talk to.”
― carl Sandburg.
Oh, how true this ring for me! Moon has been my constant companion almost as warm as the sun that greets me in the morning. She holds my hands through the difficult stormy nights gently leading me into the break of dawn. My spirit is thus fierce and at its strongest in the earliest of mornings as the sun breaks into the sky. It is when I am mostly at peace with myself and my heart bare for anyone willing to read.
Out of the billion stars that shines brilliantly in the night, nothing outshines the Moon. The lull of its gentle reflection of which it humbly borrows from the sun, heals me as I watch it pull at the waves of the Indian Ocean in a gentle rocking motion. Like a mother rocking her crying babe to sleep, Moon brought my weary soul to a gentle snooze. Mother Moon, what a lovely thing you are. God must have smiled brilliantly as He separated night from day and draped you there to guard us all till our eyes greet the day shine.