You taught me the courage
of the moon
and I am her
mirrored grace.
No bitter bruise
of ink and shadow
settles here.
The pull of tides
exist in cobalt
and I rise and fall
in their fleeting melody.
What does not settle
will dance in streaks of
silver, moving slow
despite the sun.
And I shall sing to a sky
that mourns for freedom;
a sound so delicate in its
aching, may it
ever be endured.
You taught me the courage
of the moon.
and I am her
mirrored grace.