We take our sun for granted, the moon perhaps more so,
forgetting that these heavenly bodies, so much to them we owe.
Earth, the third of planets nine, is our home and universe—
for there’s none other to compare, within a ten-light-year burst.
The earth circles the sun, the moon goes around our planet,
the sun keeps us warm, whether our name’s Ivan, Jose, or Janet.
The moon changes shape nightly, along with tides so commanding,
having done so for eons, green cheese composition not withstanding.
But on August twenty-first, the two merged for many of us here,
at least in the continental U.S., west to east, for every sightseer.
Compared to ancestors long ago, we had no fear that this was the end,
because after a moment’s embrace, sun and moon each left as a friend.
So what have we learned from this eclipse, this spectacle of nature’s timing,
that caused us to marvel, be friends, and come together without whining?
Perhaps we’re reminded we’re all tiny cogs—on this we must ponder—
whether we believe in God, Mother Nature or the Flying Spaghetti Monster.
This post was written by paulmarktag