Lunar
The moon today was wrapped in gauze
this morning and tonight,
a bulb of bright within a screen
of hazy, muted light;
and as I set out in the dark
and came back as I came,
the clouds and moon had changed their sides
yet whispered just the same:
reflection of the sun’s warm light
behind a clouded veil
and day turned always into night,
the moon diluted, pale;
yet shining still where none could see
the sun’s life-giving ball,
and king as much in day or night,
the God who made it all.
The Consolations of Writing 