"And the moon -- ever white -- was proud.
She offered respite and comfort from the sun of wilting-heat
And thought herself better. Kinder.
The sun, she said, was fearsome.
Kin and creature hid in the shade
Reaching tree limbs had nothing to hide under
And flowers were mostly stupid.
Still the sun shone on and made the living sick.
And the moon hated the sun for this.
She looked down at night
When she ruled and took pride in the slumbering kin
The prowling creatures and wise flowers that only opened their petals to her.
And she wished that the sun would not rise so that she would not have to set.
But she would set and let the sun rise,
Until one perfect night, she met her reflection in the stillness of a clear lake.
And she, at once in love with the splendor that was she, refused to move.
The sun continued his journeys,
Confused when he did not pass her in the early morning hours.
It was the second moonless night that he found her, settled in a tree and enamored of herself.
'The sky misses you,' he told her.
'The sky is a fool, he loved you first,' was her reply.
He could not refute that and took to speak with the Motherfather.
The Crane did not sit beside the moon,
Did not beseech her to return to the sky.
Instead it waded into the waters where the reflection shimmered
And took it, a large glittering fish, into its beak.
Into the sky the Crane took the reflection
Setting it loose in the sky to light the night.
The owl, besotted and distraught,
Flew into the waters and drowned in search of her own beauty.
'What a vain little moon,' the sky thought.
'She will learn,' the Motherfather replied."