Silver Crescent Poem by Marc Mannheimer

Crescent moon,
and a star, adjacent, almost in its pocket

Silver sliver
opened up and out
to the silent, velvet sky’s Northeast,
the star (almost) in its cradle

Is this some sign,
perhaps,
that Mohammed spoke of?

And why is it here this morning?
Does it herald in
a day of fortuitous possibilities?
Or does it warn
of tempests and tumult,
calling us
to summon our courage,
to resist, to stand strong
in the midst of temptations to come?


(I saw a crescent moon one morning... well, this is the story...)