I sit here in painted marble,
with moon nowhere to be seen.
All sun, but the sun is hiding.
He knows people blame him.

He’s trying to be more like the moon
– loved by all. Her mystical ways,
they enchant. Enduring enchantress,
what strength is in your sanctuary.

Marble is my defence, perhaps a plea.
It won’t leave me. Like stone,
I am safety. Like moonrock, my
enchantress, painted by the passing

of time. Sitting in the grey light of day,
rain has withered and hollowed me.
With my stone, sculptured through years,
we change to new shapes. My paint, too,

sometimes matching. We don’t want to
be sun, but to be moon: flowing
arias of hidden depths; no startling
blaze, shadowing all in sparkle.

Perhaps a rock wants to be sparks too.
Maybe sun is the moon; the moon is the sun.
Perhaps all is all, but we’re standing in statue,
all forgotten in twin confusion.


“You are blaming yourself for events, making it impossible to move forward into more positive circumstances. You are too caught up in guilt and self-reproach to see your way out of the problem. Don’t use up your energy on a situation you can’t change. Instead, focus on finding your way out.”