A sliver of a crescent
The rest a shadow of the whole
Startling; Strking
So little reflected
And yet...
Truly, mesmerisingly, beautiful
Nestled across the bottom of the moon
This wonderful faint outline of the whole disk
And as I think about this now
Is this a metaphor for me? For us?
So little of me reflected
Just the emergent, merest part
And yet...
What a beautiful thing to behold
All that potential
All that is still to be revealed
But none of this detracts from
Or undermines the beauty of the crescent
Present: here and now
No disappointment that more is not showing
Just a genuine enjoyment of that which is visible
This very instant
Is this a picture of how you see me?
Of how you love me?
Please let it be so.