You are the sun to my skies,
Or the moon in my darkness, where loneliness lies
What matters the title, what matters the name?
The metaphor dances, yet meaning’s the same

I scarcely know the depths of my soul,
So how could I ever be radiant and whole?
I cannot be sun, not standing apart
Yet if you were the moon, I’d kindle my heart

I would blaze with a light to enrobe you in gold,
I’d banish the night and the bitter and cold
And if you were the sun, high and bright,
I’d turn to the moon, a thief of your light

I’d play every part to cradle your spark,
A mirror, a beacon, a glow in the dark
And if you were a star, just a lone, burning one
I’d be the vast heavens you rested upon

I would be the arms of the endless skies,
Holding your sorrows, your dreams, and your cries
But truth, if you asked me, with no veil nor art,
I am the Earth, a bruised yet beating heart

I am the soil that feeds and forgives,
A mother to all who wound and yet live
Not one unchanging, eternal flame,
Nor a faithful moon in a tireless game

I bear forests that bloom, and deserts that sigh,
Oceans that rage and rivers that dry
My mountains may crumble, my gardens decay,
My seasons grow wilder and tear me away

While the sun stands unyielding, the moon bows in grace,
I fracture and fracture, I shatter in place
No simple phase, no steady bright hand,
But chaos and kindness and breaking and sand

Still, name any role—I’ll learn every part,
And contort myself to fit into your heart