One by one the city lights go out; still  there is a brightness to the night.

People slumber unaware of the luster which glows and thus creates wondrous light.

The moon rises in the east emanating upon autumn leaves upon the ground.

Then the moon rises up and turns smaller and white and though it changes it makes no sound.

Just as the sun did the day before and will again on the morrow.

The moon travels the same path from east to west; glowing brightly for it knows no sorrow.

The night wind gently rustles the leaves that still hang upon the trees.

They dance a dance of glory as the moon shines upon them in the breeze.

The moon simply borrows the light from the sun and reflects it to the leaves.

They in turn reflect its glory to anyone who sees. It is Gods glory he retrieves.