Not the full moon
Not clear at all
Not the sum of all
Not the crown prince on a pedestal
As I stare up into the half moon sky
I know I must wait
for time will fill the darkened side of the half secret moon
and tell what the other half has in story and store
and whether it will be less or so much and surprisingly more
As I stare at the blinding light
of the half that is clear in its delight
time boldly declares all the past it has known
it points to when I thought it was too slow
and when I impatiently tried to colour the dark side in
with crayons in time made all of my own
I realise
it is when the half moon wait
is accepted and appreciated
that the full moon no longer holds the power
to disappoint or frustrate or delay my joyous state
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