A Christian
by Anne E Thompson

Lunar Light
Shines whitely in the dark,
Allowing grey shadows
To creep from black emptiness,
Giving a hint of shape
And direction,
To the stumbling lost.

Lunar Light,
Lives only in darkness,
Reflecting sun’s brightness,
Unable to generate
Even a spark of her own,
Is nothing
When turned from the sun.

Lunar Light
From pock-marked planet
Unlovely chunk of rock,
A fault ridden form.
But pierces the darkest night,
And sometimes
Is most one can bear.