Through the window we see the wintry sky,
The curve of the waning moon
Bright against its black cold;
A silent reminder of the One
That governs over the darkness.
It casts a warming glow on the bed inside,
The wiggling of a young girl fighting sleep
Brings smiles to a slumbering father lying near,
_ Thankful for the gift of a daughter's love_
_ In this dark generation of icy hearts._
Her sudden request opens his tired eyes,
"Da-da, will you cuddle up like the moon with me?"
The meaning remaining a mystery,
Until he sees again from her pillow perspective
The ruler of the nighttime sky.
In response the father becomes a crescent
As she snuggles her little body against his,
The chattering fading and sleep triumphing again.
Yet not before she says in faith not yet full,
_ "It's hard to say I love God more than you."_
So as she closes her eyes to enter sleep’s peace,
He whispers again of One unseen,
The Giver of all love and seasons;
And reminds her that one day she will awake
Beyond the moon in her true Father's embrace.