Earthshine

The full moon gets all of the attention.
She glows like a streetlamp,
Introducing shadows to midnight,
An unexpectedly gentle encounter.
Luminous, unblushing, evanescent,
She demands to be admired,
Printing halos of light in the irises
Of those faces that are turned upwards
To study her.

But consider the sliver of silver,
The crescent with earthshine at her side.
Delicate, elegant, and melancholy
She perches herself among the stars,
Where with relief I find her again.
Her earthshine betrays what all of us know–
She will soon be the boisterous full moon
That has a reputation for irrational behavior,
And we will be glad for it when she comes.

Yet there’s beauty in this phase.
I seem to seek her for reassurance
And find it in the midst of my reverie:
Slight in stature, weak in her glow,
and also full of imminent potential,
She and I are everything we should be.