The moon was once a moth who ran to her lover,
they embraced, and she ultimately passed away
with such a smile everywhere on her body.
Over a period of time, her wings feel to the earth
and sanctified the meadows.
Angels cam and buried the limbs
that touched His mouth.
The moon was once a moth who ran to God,
they entwined.
Now just her luminous soul remains
and we gaze at it
at night.
A poem from the book Love Poems from God