Mother moon
(But a reflection of true light)
Your style –
Waxing, waning,
Whining, woeful plight.
O disregard the haze
Through which you peek –
Your feeling’s felt
No matter how meek
Those persons – Spirits –
Would seem to be.

An imperfect reflection
Off unstill waters
Of an imperfect light!
Oh!

Reflect upon myself
In the pallor of your light.
(Life reflecting upon the living)
To find:

Within and above
Does weakness lie:
I see clouds can mask your light.
My own mask, though, lies
Hidden from me
As I peer through from inside.

Your dark side though,
Not dark at all when you are new.
Then your light does fall
Upon unseeing eyes
(But knowing minds!)
To whom is seen my light,
And darker side, also.

My life revolves around this
Earth, as does yours:
But your woeful face
Reflects your eternal plight.
Whereas I have the chance
To leave, and change this life
For another
(Which I am yet
To re-discover).

I don’t remember from before.
Do you, Mother?