I watch the moon

I watch the moon,

shifting moods or

phases, just like

sometimes I do too.

Her crescent sliver peeking out or shutting like one enormous eyelid.

And sometimes growing,

hungry, learning, risking a little more.

And sometimes bold,

bright, full, lighting up

even the dark places.

And sometimes coming home,

returning, folding inside.

The moon says,

“And even when I am hidden

from you,

I never hide from myself.”

I watch the moon.

She is herself, always.

Just like sometimes I

remember I am too.