The old fire
breathing box of iron, its warmth, ah how fondly I recall; it, the
chilling air dispelled, and mortals keep time with the dancing of the
flames. How would be so nice to again snuggle in by said fire, but
this boy, his own roads has wandered. The teasing cold, the cloudy
night, all a fitting symphony to my life. Log and lump, treasure or
trash all consumed and reduced to ash...
...that dust, no human covets, for all it covers in gray; my history, it seemed to line.
In the cool of the
night, a stone I flicked down the road I trod, for after all, all I
could see! The curtain's of the sky had parted you see, and in all
her beauty their she be, the Moon, fair at last! In wildly smooth
contemplation I gazed at her face, glowing so brightly, yet so softly
too. Heaven and Earth came close and I felt as though I could touch
the Moon's smile! But alas, 'twas just an old dust heap, pummeled by
years stones from outer space, and all dusty left, the ash heap of
the galaxy must she be...
...but I looked
again, she was so perfect, every ray of light she chanced to catch to
mortals she sends, her own light she has none, but to light our night
'twas she formed. Her moon dust a powerful reflection of love!
Moon Dust! My wildly
smooth contemplation changed to animated joy, for the Moon and I, the
same did share, dust and darkness everywhere!But catching every ray, I
too moon dust can be, to give to fellow mortals the light from the
Son! Moon dust, moon dust... ...just let me be moon dust!
The End.
