The Moon
Her light softens the long shadows, a silver thread weaving across my soul, its gentle rise can soothe the starkness. Such art, such swift essence, it breaks, and blurs the space where silence gleams. In the dawn of winter, a calm moon defies its empire, whose eyes whisper tunes through the cool hills of evening, where horizons tread with haloes a reflection of beauty, untouched.
- Rainer Maria Rilke