I touched the moon last night;a golden glow beyond my grasp. Eons before me, it rested there. It will remain when I am dust. My hand now glows from the embrace. Voices echo through nights past, and with the glow, caress my face. My finger faints from what will last. Alone I am; alone secure;the moon will last when I am gone. A Master set it in its place, to move the tide, refresh the dawn. Unnumbered eyes have felt its rest;have looked upon reflected light. My heart is moved away from pain;I touched the moon last night.

An Owl on the Moon: A Journal from the Edge of Darkness