My Sky

It just hung there

A full round moon

Suspended by beautiful back darkness

without beginning or an end


Suddenly it almost moved out of sight,

and I strained my neck to look at the tiny sliver of sky one last time

And from my tiny ariplane seat

I found comfort in my theory

That if the moon doesn’t need to be held up by anyone or anything,

then neither do I.


A conglomerations of individuals

suspended in our own dark universe,

That’s all we are;

And we try to shine bright for others,

sometimes forgetting that we feed from the light of others as much,

if not even more so,

than they feed from our glimmer of hope.


And I?

Oh, I sometimes feel alone in my dark sky

with nothing beautiful to show but fog and a barely discernible glow of moonlight.

Other times I feel light radiating from me;

Fire coming from my fingertips, emanating to those bodies of light who feed from kind, small words of encouragement

And those three little words we seek to be spoken to us

truthfully, quielty, surely

When we feel we could not be loved by anyone or anything without becoming more shiny, pretty things.


I make peace with dark solitude

I do not need a lesson on the importance of human kindness,  generosity, and love.


In my darkened sky,

If I sometimes shine,

I do so to light the way of those around me

Hoping that as I learn to brighten up my sky,

They can do the same with their own darkness.


If one day I can hang here, suspended with a multitude of stars,

It’ll be because I was never afraid to be suspended alone in the dark.


So here’s the secret:

Just pretend, as you hang in darkness,

to be one with the stars,

daughter of the moon,

and dance around the darkened sky as if you needed nothing else but your own dim light as your spotlight.