A little moonbeam broke from her source

And twinkling fell to ground

Smiling gaily she spun and twirled

Rejoicing in the freedom she had found.

She darted around danced and played

Silver illuminating her forwards, backwards flight

For a while she believed she was

The source, its radiance and its light.

With passing time soon she fell

Depleted of her sparkling self

Too tired to raise her tinkling voice

She appealed to her source for help.

Look up; come back, the moon she called

Resounding with luminosity bright

And sent her guardians with cloud and breeze

Her child to bring, into her forgiving light.

~Sujata~