Is the moon a hole in the sky?
Or is it just a silver disk that's here all the time?
The full moon shines with silver essence,
And fills my heart with a presence; I can not explain.
I looked up at my house, and there, shining.
Was the moon.
Casting a spell oh so binding it scared me.
But tis thy moon and thy moon it shall stay.
This is thou moon
And shall it be always.
Whether it be a crescent or disk or hole.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.