
Soon will come the new Moon,
running over the sky,
hurtling through space,
so slow but so fast,
arc of light,
thirteen moons and
thirteen months in a year.
Cold and numb I stand and view you. Shocked by your light,
reflected glory.
You are time,
you are a clock,
your face turned to us
but constantly changing.
If one could visit you,
like in the past,
would we see times spell,
it’s awesome power.
Our sad world.