Moon Song

      by Ron Morris                                                                                                            

His mares are filled with frozen tears
      That keep him rolling through the years,
      The things he viewed with changing face
      Imprinted on his cratered lace
      He's lonely, far up in the sky
      His fate; to bid all men goodbye
      Resigned their lives are much too short
      And knowing time is life's consort

Behold this moon, the nighttime god
      And look upon the steps we've trod,
      Recall the ones who passed before
      A mounting, yearning, human score
      A bargain we can't understand
      The tide and ebb of living man
      We do not have a choice to make
      We must say yes; our hearts must break

This moon awake in fringe of trees
      Intrudes upon my dreaming peace,
      The rays of white light falling down
      Appear to me as screaming sounds
      Of lives too short to have a plan
      Of searching hearts since time began

Across the sky, the moon will stare
      Throughout the years, he's ceased to care
      He casts his phase without a fight
      And rolls along his endless night

ooooo000ooooo

Ron Morris is a writer, broadcast journalist, political analyst, and traveler. Read his full bio and links to his books here: