I found comfort in our moon, which does change, but appears changeless.

I stepped outside
to stand upon the lawn.
The rain had passed.
The night deepened in its mood.
Neighboring voices settled down
as curtains were drawn in houses near.

Clouds moved swiftly overhead,
revealing a bright light,
the moon in its fullness.

Oh, lovely moon,
I whispered.
So glad to see you.
When sickness sends age
into my joints
and brings worry close
upon my brow,
you are ageless,
the same face looking down at me
as, when a child, I gazed up at you.

Thankful, am I.
As so much changes,
the moon yet remains steadfast.
Clouds, they pass o'er head,
like a veil of time
always rushing onward,
while you, lovely moon, remain still.