The Man in the Moon, it took me a long time to find him
Even now I search out his grin as he smiles down on the river
Leaving the pale face my eyes stray to the water
My own face is reflected in the silvery gleam
My head is cocked, something I do often when in thought
Closing my eyes a tender sound is enhanced
I wonder can you rush and still be patient?
For there is patience in the rushing river’s song
How long has the river been singing that same mellow tune?
A nightingale, the river’s harmony tonight
I look to the sky once more and see a dipper
A warrior stands guard overhead, his bow at the ready
Kawaakari, the moonshine gleam on the water
Can he see it from his velvety black perch?
Funny how such questions come to mind at random
An owl sings bass in the river’s melody now
If only I had a part to sing myself and perhaps someone to sing with
Where is the harpist who plucks at the river so tenderly?
Perhaps he sings as well as plays
Perhaps the Man in the Moon would know
But he is ever silent, ever watching from the night sky
Alone I feel, but for a strong presence omnipotent
Never does this presence leave me, it is the Lord’s
My voice finally completes the quartet and I know why we sing
The river, the nightingale and the owl praise the Lord with me
What lovelier song could there be?

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