The moon, she is a silver chalice,
filled and refilled with our Eternal’s love.
We listen. Her ethereal song swirls across the skies.
We join her in dance, our partner in firmament’s ballet.
We are enfolded within the chords of moon’s holy hymn.
She intones the many verses, we join in her chorus.
Her countenance, a mirrors the brilliance of the sun.
Her ebbs and flows give way to a carpet of glittery stars.
A shy ingenue, the moon blushes in the black of night;
a harlot, she winks, sinks into a provocative bow.
The moon, a silver flute, within the astral orchestra,
plays the solos in many heavenly concertos.
Spilling sparks of celestial grace, the moon
wraps around us in a shawl of ivory lace.
Her heart, our steadfast companion,
a ceaseless reminder of the fidelity of our God.
"With all the beauty surrounding me here above the Verde Valley, how could I not create more beauty?"