Old Man in the Moon

A chilled breeze brushes my cheek.
My skin responds to its touch with sheer joy.
The thin wisps of cloud above part willingly.
My eyes turn upward to rejoice in the beautiful blackness.
Pinpricks of hope light up the night sky.
And in their midst,
A man as old as time shines through.
An orb of white wisdom peers down on me,
Watching me as a father watches.
I take comfort in this caring gaze.
But my mind begins to wander.
I shudder, though it is not from cold.
I think of other people, other places.
Does the old man see them too?
Does he see a world of cruelty and violence?
Does he look down and see a child beaten?
A family starving?
A girl denied love?
I cannot even fathom the treachery he knows.
It is a wonder he does not go blind from sadness.
He, alone in the sky,
He can do nothing to change the murderous hearts of this world.
Yet he still looks on.
Watching.
Caring.
If only I could give him something better to see.
If only I could change the world.
They told me I could when I was young.
Such liars they were.
One man cannot change the world for good.
But,
Maybe a man can change a piece of it.
Maybe if enough people cared
We could truly make a difference in this world.
Then, finally,
We could stop breaking the heart of that old man in the moon.

Old Man in the Moon

Tiffany Wade

Joined March 2008

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desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

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