The Moon feels the silence,
the whisper, the light,
The change in a face,
the shift in the night.
Rahu is the shadow,
that magnifies fear,
It turns little signals
into things we hold dear.
A change in a voice,
a pause in reply,
Can trouble the heart
and awaken the why.
Others may miss it,
and simply move on,
But you may keep feeling
the change after dawn.
The Moon gathers feelings,
like rain from the sky,
While Rahu keeps asking,
“But what does it imply?”
A stranger’s expression,
a room growing still,
Can enter your mind
and remain against will.
A passing remark
may return in the night,
Rahu gives the question,
the Moon gives it life.
You sense what is hidden,
you notice the shade,
You feel every difference
that others evade.
But Rahu can whisper
what may not be true,
And Moon may keep searching
for something to pursue.
Not every silence
is carrying pain,
Not every distance
foretells a change.
Not every feeling
is truth from above,
Not every shadow
is something to love.
The Moon says, “I feel it.”
Rahu says, “Look deep.”
The mind keeps on searching
when others can sleep.
Yet wisdom arrives
with a quieter view:
“Feel what you feel,
but ask if it’s true.”
Sensitivity matters.
But fear must not steer.
A feeling can visit
without becoming fear.
You need not become
less tender or wise.
You need only learn
when perception disguises.
The Moon will keep feeling.
Rahu will still roam.
But peace begins slowly
when the mind comes home.
For sometimes the storm
is genuinely near.
And sometimes the storm
is only the mind
turning a passing cloud
into something to fear.
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