Strawberry Moon

Tonight the full Moon hangs so low and bright,
A lantern brushed with honey through the blue.
It finds the farmer closing down the night,
The child awake in bed, the lovers too.

It shines on harbour towns and city glass,
On desert roads, on ships beyond the foam;
Across each border, time zone, field, and pass,
Its borrowed light makes strangers feel like home.

Somewhere, a hand lifts softly to the sky;
Somewhere, another pauses, looking up.
No distance can entirely make us lie
Outside the reach of that pale silver cup.

We share one moon, one hush, one lifted view,
And for a night, it brings us close and true.