Reflection

A poem I wrote for my best friend.

The moon is praised for silver light,
A quiet lantern in the night,
That softly shines above the sky
And watches as the dark drifts by.

Yet moonlight holds no fire its own,
No spark the pale moon calls its own;
Its gentle glow, so clear above,
Is only sunlight dressed in love.

So it is, perhaps, with me and you
A quiet truth, yet deeply true.
For some may see the warmth I show
And think that it is mine to glow.

But they cannot behold the source,
The hidden light that shapes its course.
For you are like the distant sun,
The light by which my light is spun.

And like the moon, I turn to you,
Still chasing what I never grew
A borrowed glow I try to claim,
Yet know it burns with your true flame.