The Moon came out and released a sigh from afar.
Bright shone his light through the bare winter trees.
“Why do you sit in darkness and cry,” He asked,
“Under my serene and pellucid sky?”
“I cry for life,” I said, “I cry for death,
I cry for words left by me unsaid.”
“Speak your heart,” replied he, “speak your mind,
Free yourself from those chains that bind.”
“But,” said I, “we have been taught
To bear the pain for all or for naught,
To weather the seasons that life has wrought.”
These words uttered, by his silence were met
And through his light did courage he beget.
© One Writer and His Blog 2013