Questioning the Moon Man

The moon hung low and orangish in a cloud bescattered sky.
And I felt like it was watching with a droopy-lidded eye.
So knowing it was old, and postulating old meant wise.
I ventured ask a question with no guaranteed replies.

"Mr. Moon," my mind began, "I know you've seen an awful lot.
I mean, you've got the perfect looking down, observing type of spot.
So, have things always been the way they seem inside my thoughts?
Is it just me? Or does this tale fill many a page in many plots?"

Silence was my answer for quite a lengthy while.
And I thought I'd get naught else but a quiet, knowing smile.
But finally a rumbling stir and I knew across the miles
My heart would have it's answer from the Moon Man's ancient files.

"Young man," the Moon Man chuckled in a low and jolly voice,
"Your plight is like to many who embarked in it by choice--
A quandary common to all normal earth-born men and boys.
It's marked, at times, with quietness, at times with warring noise."

I pondered that for quite some time 'til I caught a sudden yawn.
"One last question, Sir," I called, "One more thing before the dawn...."
"Is this journey worth the effort? What of the men who've gone?"
"It's noble," came his answer. "It's noble, Son. Press on...."