Phases of Us

The moon would light my way to you,
a silver hush, a pearly hue.
Through shadowed paths and whispering trees,
we met beneath the midnight breeze.

The world lay still, the echoes died,
as time unspooled and opened wide.
No eyes but hers to see us there,
soft glow upon your face laid bare.

She waxed and waned, and so did I,
bright and bold, then shrinking shy.
A crescent thin, a silent plea,
or full and fierce—untamed, set free.

Yet always, when the dark grew deep,
when others fell to dream-lost sleep,
I’d find you where the fireflies gleamed,
as if the night was how we dreamed.

Now years have passed, her light remains,
soft fingers tracing old refrains.
She pulls the tides, she pulls my mind,
to moments only we could find.

For moons will change, but never fade,
and love, once lit, still holds its shade.