Many people count their age in moons,
Not just by their orbits around the sun;
This white orb marks the end of a day, an age, a life:
It may be just this day, or all your days, that are done.
Sailing serenely through the scudding clouds,
Marked for ever by the footprint of Man:
We may have reached the surface of the moon,
But not touched the depths of our own hearts, the way the moon can.
I look up into the night sky,
Into the cool light of the full moon:
Reflect on the transcience of beauty,
That will start waning, soon.....