My Father, The Moon.

Between the stars, and a full moon
I took my first breath, where I learned to live under the warmth of a cold night
The moon, my father
Never out of sight, burned into my retina
His light just as blinding, as it is beautiful
Someday, and I swore, that I'd return
Between the here, where, and there
At the start again, facing the same stars
I will honour him again, in soil or as ash