Peeping Tom

I watch a game of hide-and-go-seek

Played out every night

Between the night-blooming jasmine

Outside my bedroom window

And the celestial traveller of the dark

Sometime hiding

Behind a puff of cloud

Like a cotton ball gone rogue

And sometimes


It wraps itself inside a blanket of inky blue

Peeking out only a tad

The rest out of view

And I swear

I can almost hear

The flower giggle at these antics

Blooming slightly more

While Mr. Moon

From up high above


And takes a bow.



All tales of battles waged
Sing about the heroes of their age
Glorifying them like the mighty sun
Fiercely blazing, undaunted and unstoppable.
Ravaging everything that lies in its path.
The burnishing embelm of a brave warrior.

But imagine the strength it would take
To be like the unsung moon.
Reflecting the blinding glare of the sun,
Unscorched by its threatening flares.
The moon persists, throwing back
What comes its way with the flick of hand.
While with the other it controls
The majestic waves of every ocean,
Silently writing the destiny of the world.

Be like the sun to fight, my dear.
But Be like the moon and rule.

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