The Moon

The moon spoke to me tonight,

with a soft, sensitive voice.

She told me not, that it would all be okay,

but that I, myself, held the choice.

She said that within my hands,

lay both a rose and a blade.

A rose for life’s beauty,

a blade for life’s shade.

If I choose the rose,

into my body, happiness may pervade.

If I choose the blade,

out of my body, happiness may fade.

So I dropped the blade below my feet,

and buried it beneath the better choice:

The rose that I raised up to my heart,

then planted in the soil as the moon rejoiced.