In each clear night sky I look up,
Look up and see the moon.
It starts with a slither at its birth,
That slither that grows each night
As its life increases,
Going though childhood and puberty.
The half-moon shines down
As it reaches adolescence,
Its life still ahead.
That life’s age increases,
Getting wider and wider
With the experience of time.
The full moon shows its life,
That life that has reached its peak.
Each day as age increases
The moon starts to decline,
Decline into old age,
Until it becomes a slither
And finally dies.
But in life,
As with the moon,
That life will come again.
And once more life and the moon
Will rise into glory.