Why is a skinny moon
Do we love its impermanence,
The assurance of change?
The suggestion of hunger about to be sated
Or the promise of greater potential, unripe?
Does it offer the hope of a flame in the void
Or only relief that the darkness has passed?
Fat moons get the glory.
Assigned rabbits and men,
They guide planting and harvest
And command earthly tides.
The whole planet bows, or at least bulges, toward them.
But thin moons have secrets,
Great truths unrevealed.
They whisper of mystery,
Slyly grin at our folly,
Mislead with illusions of contrary ends
While hiding a wholeness
We feel but can’t see:
A oneness we share despite all appearance,
Our universe coursing the gyre of time
Bursting with life—
Fleeting, yes, but eternal.
Joni Sensel writes for Fortune 100 companies, young readers, and you amid work on a memoir about love, intuition, and loss. Read more of her work on Medium: