Member-only story
Dear Mid-Autumn Festival
This Medium Poem Is For You
The Mid-Autumn moon rises again,
quietly reflecting on past years,
its light spilling across rooftops
and over still, silent streets.
Lanterns flicker in children’s hands,
their laughter echoes in the air,
as families gather once more,
drawn together by ancient stories.
We look up, eyes drawn to the sky,
to that familiar, unwavering light,
and wonder — has anything changed?
Is this year different from the last?
I see the cards, the videos,
they flutter across my screen —
messages of blessing, of reunion,
but my eyes grow weary of the same.
Another year, another festival,
another round of mooncakes shared,
but in their sweetness, I question —
what’s new beneath this ageless moon?
The moon remains, as it always does,
a silent observer in the sky,
while our world spins faster,
our connections thinner, more fragile.
