The Moon

Such a round object, so many craters and seas, controlling the tides. How many beings have glanced upwards since the beginning? Who has it frightened, mystified, provided worship, created a gate to the universe?

Who, besides me, finds it something to ponder? 


Cold-hearted orb that rules the night,
removes the colors from our sight.
Red is grey, and yellow white,
but we decide what is right,
and what is an illusion.

          "Morning Glory"
                        ~ Written by the Moody Blues' drummer Graeme Edge

Ponder...