The Face in the Crater
To the Exile in the Moon
Moon,
I see your scarred face—
etched with punishment,
marked with sorrow.
They call you thief,
breaker of Sabbath,
sinner exiled to shine.
Yet what crime is eternal light?
What judgment carves a man into rock
and crowns him with silver?
I write to you, condemned one.
Do you envy the stars—
brief, burning, gone?
Do you envy the wolves—
who may one day finish their hunger?
You are chained to endurance.
But listen—
your silence is not wasted.
The weary turn upward,
and see not guilt but witness.
I am one of them.
And in your scarred face,
I find my own.
About the Creator
Rebecca A Hyde Gonzales
I love to write. I have a deep love for words and language; a budding philologist (a late bloomer according to my father). I have been fascinated with the construction of sentences and how meaning is derived from the order of words.
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