The moon

 Through slatted blinds the benevolent moon softly beams; soothing tired minds and flooding the darkened room with its quiet light.
It moves through cloudless skies, washed clean of wind and rain; its silver glow reflected in the panes of silent houses where dreamers dream of better days to come.

 Under such a moon, in distant mountains; my father and I once lay on rooftop terrace, cushioned upon soft divans, gazing upward at a myriad of stars scattered amongst deep indigo skies.
As the heat of the day slowly ebbed from each stone, and the village settled into slumber; the moon  shone silently down upon us all.