The Moon, Her Keeper

By Aakriti Prasad

Beneath a canopy of endless skies,

She sat, with dreams and teary eyes.

The world lay quiet, its chaos stilled,

While her tender heart with emotion spilled.

The moon, so distant, yet deeply near,

A silent witness, steadfast and clear.

Its glow wrapped her in a gentle embrace,

Wiping sorrow’s shadow from her face.

“Oh, moon,” she breathed, “you’ve always been,

The keeper of secrets I bury within.

No words of judgment, no fleeting gaze,

Only your light to guide my maze.”

Her innocent eyes, like a doe’s soft gleam,

Held fragments of laughter and a fragile dream.

To the moon she confessed her deepest ache,

The loves she lost, the hearts that break.

“I’m tired,” she said, “of holding so much,

Of craving a love I can’t ever touch.

Yet here you are, patient and kind,

A celestial balm to my restless mind.”

The moon, in silence, shone even brighter,

Its glow her solace, its light a writer.

Etching her pain across the night,

Turning her wounds into gentle light.

It taught her that distance could still be close,

That even in pain, beauty arose.

Its silver whispers, though wordless and small,

Said, “You are seen. You are heard. You are all.”

Night after night, she returned once more,

To pour her heart and let her soul soar.

For in the moon, she found her place,

A keeper of love, in its eternal grace.

And as the stars twinkled in knowing delight,

She realized her strength beneath the night.

For even in silence, a voice can bloom,

And she found her truth in the arms of the moon.

By Aakriti Prasad