The Moon Remembers
The moon remembers every tear,
Though clouds may hide her silver face.
For night holds each confession dear.
When sorrow’s tide seems all too near,
We seek her distant, patient grace;
The moon remembers every tear.
In silent hours—doubt and fear,
Our secrets find a sacred place;
For night holds each confession dear.
She floats above our fallen year,
Unfettered by our mortal race;
The moon remembers every tear.
And when the dawn draws ever clear,
Its light will banish dark’s embrace;
For night holds each confession dear.
Let her witness the dreams we chase,
Before the sun begins its pace;
The moon remembers every tear,
For night holds each confession dear.
WoPoLi 
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