Welcomed by the Moon

I opened the door to my terrace, 

Only to be welcomed by the moon. 

The moon of one and all—"Uncle Moon", as they say. 

The skin peeled away of its own accord, 

As I waited for things to fall into my lap

By their own grace.

And if you think there is no perseverance, 

No endurance in this— You are mistaken, my dear, for you know not: 

They also serve who only stand and wait.

Without begging, without asking for a thing— 

That is the requirement at any point in time. 

If you can remain until the end, to see the morning sun, 

The light of the dawn—no matter if your skin is peeled 

By the difficulties and dangers of life—

You will make it to the final count: 

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1... 

And kaboom, you are gone.

Done with tolerating the sweat that pours from 

Trials and tribulations on an empty stomach, 

On an off-day, on a day when you are down, 

And not in the pink of health.

Despite a paucity of conditions favourable to you, 

O clown, you are a man in the making— 

And you are certainly going to become one. 

Just stay tight-lipped, teeth gritted, 

And look: here is the morning. 

The first fresh light falls on your face this dawn, 

And kisses you with victory—your reward 

For waiting out the night within the storm.