Which lends to us the glow we know as pow’r.
And yet when seasons change and months are done,
We wax and wane with ev’ry passing hour.
Beneath the pale and ever-shifting face,
The darkened side is ever on the lurk.
Pretending this is truly not the case
Becomes the end of all our earthly work.
For yet we make an idol of the moon,
Exalting her and self as the true light.
When we, lunatics, fade upon the noon
And only shine amidst the blackest night.
The moon and we, are mere reflections dim
Of all truth, beauty, goodness bright in Him.”
-Ryanne J. McLaren