"The moon is often bright when it's about two o'clock in the morning. Sometimes the clouds are hiding its beauty, but not because they're mean. Sometimes it's facing the side of the world that we all wish we could go. I wonder if we really want to go there just because we'd be given the chance to see the moon from another perspective. Anyway, I think the moon likes to smile. I think that moon up there grins from one circle-side to the other, and if she had a body, I bet the cute thing would throw her moon-head back, and these people down here would talk about what scientific wonder or what space dilemma caused it. She'd keep up her floatin' and giggle, because we don't realize that it's all so simple. I'd like to think she lies around and hums such calming music, and she's always wished she could twirl around at speeds like those neighboring stars that shoot past her. She doesn't wish she could walk or fly or run, she doesn't sigh about tomorrow or what she's unable to do yesterday. She's a wishing moon and a content moon, and she really likes where she is. You may think I'm crazy, but I think you're stubborn. I think you grew up too quickly and your eyes can't see past your constant hand's covering of them. One day I'd like to go visit the moon. . . I wouldn't chat with her, but I'd probably dance with her. And I think she'd just smile, contently and beautifully, and wonder why more people don't ask her to dance."
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