NaPoWriMo Day 20, Rebellion

I WILL write of moonlight and roses

Poet in prayer glances out bedroom window.
Wonder catches in her throat.
Beyond a tall pine silhouetted against
navy blue sky and black mirror named Lake Huron,
she beholds full lunar splendor, reflection an undisturbed
line on the water, pointing to shore and to her.

She’s only seven. No one has told her about clichés.
But knowing from her own eyes that
Beauty is Truth,
she hand prints her joy on school paper—
the kind with heavy lines for capitals
and light ones for lower-case:

     See the moon shining
     Shining on the sea
     See the moon shining
     Shining on me.

     If you cannot see the moon
     Shining on the sea
     Then you surely cannot see
     The moon that shines on me.

“Lights out, my love,” says Mom. “Get plenty of rest.
In the morning you’ll help me plant roses.”