Sometimes I'm at a loss
To express all my heart
Or any of it.
So I write about the moon.
He always makes sense.
He prophesied tonight,
Told me about beauty in pain.
My mind was convinced
And was there to catch my heart
When the sting surprised, piercing.
Tonight: mourning, veiling -
Giving credence to the problem of evil.
All is not well; it's broken and scarred.
But in the midst,
At the dead center,
Beauty overcomes.

Rest easy.