The Maiden Moon

A lowly moss and mushroom magnet sits silent in the wood.
Today, a crumbly rotting stump, where before a mighty tree once stood.

Yet, this has-been trunk, this mossy stump, will be the food that gives the strength
For a sapling that will grow one day, right in this very place.

"What sign should I put in the sky,
Perhaps a crescent jewel?
My word is out, so none can doubt,
My promise of renewal"

There in the West, just above horizon's crest
At the time and where the daylight bids adieu
Your heart and soul may quiver when you sight a silver sliver,
The seal on this promise to renew.

A faithful witness in the sky for promises divine,
God made the moon to wax and wane, this too, a special sign.

Though the Maiden Moon would set each feast, it would serve for one thing more:
To be a sign that the exiled Jew as a nation will endure.

"I made a million moons wane away,
Each time to reappear,
A sign of both, month's birth and My oath
That the Jew won't disappear."

Our calendar has set our feasts
But the Maiden Moons purpose is dual:
To measure out our months; and assure God's pledge,
His covenant of renewal.

For 1200 score moons, the Jew may yon and thither be strewn,
But we'll be restored to our native land, as sealed by the Maiden Moon.

Like that young sapling from that dead stump, Hebrew tongue and town that lay in ruin
Will rise again as once before, just like the Maiden Moon.

Lyrics & Music © Bruce Brill

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