When the Moonlight Whispers of God

Silver Stillness

Slowly, silently, now the moon

Walks the night in her silver shoon…

— Walter de la Mare, Silver

There are moments in life when the noise of the world fades, and silence speaks with greater power than words. Walter de la Mare’s short poem Silver is one such moment — a gentle, luminous journey through a moonlit world, where everything is touched by quiet wonder.

The poem’s 14 lines are like a lullaby, hushed and deliberate, as the moon walks “slowly, silently” through the night sky. Everything she sees — the fruit on the trees, the sleeping dog, the doves, the mouse, the fish — is cast in silver. It is not just a description of nightfall; it is a vision of transformation. The ordinary becomes sacred under the light of the moon.

This evokes spiritual parallels that go far beyond the page. In Scripture, light is often a symbol of God’s presence. Psalm 36:9 declares, “In your light we see light.” In Silver, the moon’s light softens and silvers all it touches — just as God’s Spirit tenderly transforms our lives, revealing the sacred in the simple.

There is a theology of stillness here. The psalmist writes, “Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10). De la Mare gives us stillness in verse — a world hushed in reverence. Nothing rushes. Even the mouse “goes scampering by” quietly. The fish are “moveless.” This is not lifelessness, but peace. It reminds us of Elijah’s experience in 1 Kings 19:12 — God was not in the wind or the fire, but in the gentle whisper.

And there’s more: the moon does not force her light, she simply walks and watches. Like the Spirit of God in Genesis 1:2, who “hovered over the waters” before creation burst forth, the moon hovers, her light a quiet act of creation in its own right — revealing beauty, not creating it. The dog, the doves, the fish — they are not changed in substance, but in how they are seen.

This poem is an invitation — not just to admire nature, but to cultivate attentiveness. We are called to slow down, to notice the silver threads God weaves through our lives: the flicker of grace in a hard moment, the glow of peace in a quiet prayer, the glint of hope after sorrow.

In a noisy world, Silver is a gentle reminder: God still speaks in whispers. His glory may come in thunder — but often, it comes in moonlight.

Reflection Questions:

• Where do I see silver in my own life — glimpses of God’s quiet presence?
  
  
• What would it mean to walk “slowly, silently” through the world, like the moon?
  
  
• Can I learn to see ordinary things — people, moments, duties — bathed in divine light?
  
  

Prayer:

Lord, help me to slow down and see.

Let Your light touch my ordinary life

And silver it with grace.

May I walk gently in this world,

Seeing with Your eyes,

And resting in Your peace.

Amen.

Silver

 

Slowly, silently, now the moon

Walks the night in her silver shoon;

This way, and that, she peers, and sees

Silver fruit upon silver trees;

One by one the casements catch

Her beams beneath the silvery thatch;

Couched in his kennel, like a log,

With paws of silver sleeps the dog;

From their shadowy cote the white breasts peep

Of doves in a silver-feathered sleep;

A harvest mouse goes scampering by,

With silver claws and a silver eye;

And moveless fish in the water gleam,

By silver reeds in a silver stream.

 

Walter de la Mare

Soli Deo Gloria