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The Moon and Me

I see the moon and the moon sees me,

Up above the tall pine trees.

Shining brightly as it looks down,

Nothing is hidden for miles around.

Drawing me in and making me see,

all of my past memories.

Memories good and bad, it doesn’t matter.

All are brought to life, causing my heart to beat in a slow


I see the moon and the moon sees me,

up above the tall pine trees.

The moon shimmers and shines,

peering down on me.

Reflecting the sun, reflecting on me.

There’s no escape from its gaze.

I’m forced to face my day without a mask,

Without a haze.

With no one around, nor a sound to be made.

The moon looks at me and says, “How did you live? “How was your day?”

My mind races and my heart beat increases.


“Oh moon, what does it matter!?!”

Oh, but I see the moon and the moon sees me,

In the openness of night,

Up above the tall pine trees.

Memories good and bad flooding my mind,

I look to run, I look to hide.

But there’s no place to run in the big open night.

I must answer for all things done wrong, all things done right.

The moon is so full, so big, so bright.

It’s pale, it’s pure, it’s white.

“How do I reflect to the moon? What does it see?

Am I living my life to the fullest?

Am I being all that I can be?”

The moon is still peering, still looking down.

And now I must answer, I must answer now.

“It’s supposed to be night! I’m supposed to be hidden!” I beg, I plead.

But alas, I see the moon and the moon sees me.

This poem was written in reflection of the verses Romans 14: 10-12 “…For we shall all stand before the judgment seat of Christ. For it is written: “As I live, says the Lord, every knee shall bow to Me, and every tongue shall confess to God.” So then each of us shall give account of himself to God.”


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