You are a moon, my child,
But what will this mean to you?
Not in terms of tides, nor time,
(though ebb and flow in both reside)
not in phases lost or gained,
or whom, by your presence, is bound and swayed,
not in sides you dare not show,
nor those made lunatic by your glow,
but by what it is that you’ll reflect,
what others, looking up, expect,
the shine you’ll flaunt that’s truly yours,
not borrowed from another orb.
To eclipse the sun, you see,
set your path toward brilliancy.