Mr. Moon

An ode to old and dear friend.

Oh Mister Moon

whom watches over the night

I have a thought to ponder.

Why has God chosen to paint with brushes of light?

 

In infinite wisdom

he creates balls of energy to entertain all men.

Roars of thunder call to me

while in the heavens I feel a storm coming in.

 

In the dark cloudy sky

I listen to bellows of sorrow fall from his cheeks.

Tears of regret flow from his seat of mercy

if only his grace I would seek.

 

Lightning illuminates the deserted land

as visions of hopelessness scurry home.

Death has a grip on their soul

yet earth is the only joy they've been ever known.

 

Tell me, Mister Moon

do you have a clue what is in this Father's heart?

Do you see the storm brewing?

I do wonder if God's love has departed?

 

As flashes paint the heavens

my soul cries out to you, Lord.

I hear your yearnings beckoning this man,

I listen to the angels as they retrieve their swords