A Census of Moonbeams

Was that what happened when you were born?
Was there a census of moonbeams,
did quiet night counting slide you into existence?

And when you learned to walk
did they film you with moonbeams?
Child of children, did you fall among flowers and fools?

When you came here to learn how to live with moonbeams
we held our breaths.
We have taught you everything —
how frail they become after youth
and how they need shining room, but pale if you boast —
and now, we hold our breaths.

What will you do tomorrow, when you come of age?
Will you take a census of moonbeams
and if you do, will your loud counting kill them?

What do you think?