WILLIAMSJI MAVELI WRITES

MOODS
Not one fixed gaze, but ever in a shift,
The moon's a face, a celestial gift
That waxes full, a visage round and bright,
Then thins to crescent in the fading light.
A sliver smile, mysterious and slim,
A promise growing on the sky's dark rim.
Then swelling, swelling, to a knowing stare,
A "moon face" watching, stripping secrets bare.
But soon the fullness starts its slow decline,
A weary look, a fading, silver sign.
Each phase a mood, a different, silent plea,
Reflecting change for all the world to see.
From hopeful crescent to the face of old,
A lunar story, in the heavens told.
WILLIAMSJI MAVELI