Man and the Moon

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The moon is staring at me;
And I am staring at the moon.
It’s peeking through the dark clouds,
I am adjusting for a better view.
It’s laughing at my existence,
I’m laughing at its distance.
The moon is turning blood red in anger,
I witness it at the horizon;
But what does the moon really think ?
For I think it looks beautiful!
A suspended ball bound to rise and set,
A floating soul rising and setting.
A spherical light in a murky setup,
A man lost in questions in a world of answers.
The moon is still staring at me,
And I’m still staring at moon.

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