Does the Moon Not Feel Lonely?

 



Oh, wandering moon, do you not tire,
Of rising alone, a silent fire?
Drifting between fullness and fade,
A quiet traveler, half in shade.

Do you not long for voices near,
A presence constant, soft and near?
For someone who waits, who simply knows,
That you will come, that you will go?

You follow the sun, yet never meet,
His golden warmth just out of reach.
Do you not ache for just one night,
To share your sky, to hold his light?

The stars blink by, distant, cold,
The night is vast, the dark takes hold.
Clouds may hide you, storms may call,
Yet none remain—none stay at all.

Why must you wander, alone and bright,
Through empty hours of endless night?
Why must you glow for those who sleep,
And whisper secrets none will keep?

Does the sky decree you must be apart,
From warmth, from presence, from a beating heart?
Or do you shine because you’ve known,
That solitude is light on its own?

Yet tell me, moon, if given the choice,
Would you not ask for a single voice?
A quiet friend to walk beside,
To share the dark, to stand with pride?

Or have you made your peace instead,
With silver light and paths unsaid?
Perhaps to be alone is not to grieve,
But to teach the world what it means to believe. 🌙

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