Query any poem you want.

There is no rain on the moon,

flowing rivers or blue seas.

A drab and colorless globe,

with not so much as a breeze.

There is no air there to breath,

no green trees or fields of snow.

A desolate desert, with

no chance life will ever show.

There is no diversity,

just dust wherever you look.

A boring, bleak, barren place,

that time long ago forsook.

And yet it looks beautiful,

hung in an ebony sky.

And when it melds with our hearts,

there's no need to question why.