In the nights of solitude I gaze at the sky
I have my own made up conversations with the Moon.
And the stars chime and giggle at their amazement,
Of looking at the one without any employment.
The Moon asks me, how earth is, it is so far!
I tell all about my slavery, what life has been.
Moon chuckles, for the Moon has endured a loneliness without time.
Sometimes the clouds come in between with their serious voice,
Covering the Moon they stop our words,
They interrupt with their calls for sleep.
Clouds say, human you have been disrupting the calm!
What work you might have talking to the Moon?
It is not your work to let the Moon know about how earth is,
For the Moon does see when everyone else is asleep.
I, puzzled, ask back, why would the Moon only want to see when others sleep?
Clouds reply, the Moon wants to keep all warm,
Those who have no joy in their lives.
I thank the Moon silently before I go to bed,
Watch over me as I dream about a better day, tomorrow,
When again the Moon would be there to talk to me.