Letter Eighteen

Different But The Same.

I am the moon.

I wander freely through the sky.

Beneath me turns the Earth.

Its waters and seas swirl.

Its land is green, or brown, or gold.

Sandstorms rage.

Volcanoes breathe.

Rice stems push through water.

Wheat stalks push through earth.

Chickens peck at dry, barren soil.

Cows graze green swards of grass.

Birds fly, like me.

Women and men go about their daily work,

in fields or small brick boxes,

wherever they are.

Children learn, or play, or pray.

They are all the same.

Getting on with it, their given life.

Here or there.

Under the sun or me, the moon.

Different but the same.

I look down in wonder.

Welcome. Come and share our tiny island under the same moon.

Gill Davies, London, Artist.

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