In the sky - gray, pockmarked, episodic -
a waxing and waning sphere does appear.
Silent, lifeless, a long ago relic
of an unknown cosmic impact severe

in whose desolate trajectory we,
from way down below, look way up on high
with wonder that this stark wonder could be
a reason why all life here does not die.

For without this dead sibling of the sun,
with its tidal pull indivisible,
life on mother earth could not have begun.
So here us one more binary symbol

of nature’s existence. Something extinct
is a provenance of the life instinct.