Yellow moon that rises above a tree. What lovely inspiration you rase in me. And a mellow pipe softly puffed, brings tranquil breath to rest a soul in sonnets speech.
Oh graceful moon inspire in me, a story that give glory, to the creator who breathed me be.
Rum for thinking, a pipe for breathing, and beautiful tapestry, are all the ingredients a writer needs to compose a story that tells of thee.
How blessed am I to bear witness to your wonderful tapestry, a yellow moon in a grey blue sky, on a beautiful autumn eve.
“Thus even my friend, in whom I trusted,
who ate my bread, has turned against me.
But you, O Lord, have mercy on me.
Let me rise once more and I will repay them.
By this I shall know that you are my friend,
if my foes do not shout in triumph over me.
If you uphold me I shall be unharmed
and set in your presence for evermore.”
Truly these words are fulfilled when Judas dipped his hand in the dish of our Lord and when our Father raises Jesus from the dead and set him forever in heaven at the Ascension.
