| Alone and listening to the light of the moon | Alone, I listen as moonlight pours like silver rain |
| An orphaned child cried to the shadows | A waif's sob drifts, dissolved in the shadows' embrace |
| Alone and listening to the light of the moon | Alone, I listen as moonlight pours like silver rain |
| Maisha prayed for someone to save her | Maisha’s prayer floats up, a frail leaf on a storm’s face |
| She’d wandered for so very far | She wandered—lost, the world unraveling at her feet |
| That she no longer knew her way home | Until the thread to home was tangled past all knowing |
| The whole world knows her story | Her tale the wind has scattered to every distant street |
| But no one knows her name | Yet none can shape her name from sorrow’s silent flowing |
| Moon, if you are there | O moon—if somewhere you reside beyond the mist |
| Return so that she might be comforted | Return to cradle her in peace’s gentle keeping |
| Moon, if you are there | O moon—if somewhere you reside beyond the mist |
| Return so that she can sleep | Return and ease her into the hush of sleeping |
| Moon, if you are there | O moon—if somewhere you reside beyond the mist |
| Return so that she might be comforted | Return to cradle her in peace’s gentle keeping |
| Moon, if you are there | O moon—if somewhere you reside beyond the mist |
| I am begging for Maisha | I entreat you, for Maisha, heed my pleading breath |
| Return for Maisha | Return for Maisha |
| dedicated to the child soldiers in Northern Uganda. | dedicated to the child soldiers in Northern Uganda. |