What power has the moon within itself?
Existing, a cold colorless stone, often dark as night,
Hanging inconspicuously in distant space,
Black on black, yet, reflecting sun's distant rays,
It becomes a bright night jewel in the ebony sky,
Beloved of lovers, sharing its borrowed light,
In another way, changing hot fire to cold light.
Through some strange alchemy it transmutes,
Day's unrare gold into night's sacred silver,
Sorcerer's substance through arcane powers
Turning all it touches mystically wondrous.
Donovan Baldwin
