The moon lives down the lane. I knock on her door when I want to be seen with kind eyes that have watched me become from a neighbor's distance.
The silver lining of extraordinary times
is that each night the moon still shines.
Grandma Moon,
Mother Moon,
Moon That Grows in My Belly,
under your pull, I teeter, then sigh,
for the edge, the universe,
is as far as it is nigh.
The silver lining of extraordinary times
is that each night the moon still shines.
Grandma Moon,
Mother Moon,
Moon That Grows in My Belly,
under your pull, I teeter, then sigh,
for the edge, the universe,
is as far as it is nigh.
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