It is five in the morning, I sit perched upon my bed, a writer’s roost to bask in the moon’s glow. I breathe quietly into the layered silence that emanates, filling the space with expansive questioning. My moon effulgence is sweet, yet, I know it is fleeting. Already sounds of traffic encroach upon the scene, foreboding the ticking time bomb we title reality.
I allow my gaze to partake of the sparkling moon dust that skitters across the hushed pond. All lights, except for the dimmed computer screen are extinguished. Maybe I can somehow prolong the radiance, delay the initiation of the emerging sun. Can I hold my breath, pull the chord that entangles the moon, beseech it to stay perched for my eye to see and my heart to feel?
I suppose she may wish to rest, to rejuvenate for her next rising. Taking her turn in the celestial dance, being careful to not overstay her welcome. I am charmed by her mysterious illumination, never does she fear the dark, instead she welcomes it like a cloak of glad tiding.
She accepts that often she is unnoticed, a mere sliver in the sky, bashful in her monthly cycle. Once upon a time we honored her, knowing that her waltz in the galaxy was as important as the suns tango and the rains boogie, all essential in the abundance promenade.
I sit now enveloped in the complete emptiness of her departure. Silently she slipped away, no bravado goodbye, just a quiet last wink to those who glanced her way. I hold that gesture as I rise like the sun into the manmade chaos. It’s my glowing reminder in the anarchy of human civilization that all is impermanent, fleeting, a mere glint in infinite darkness.
A moon bath caressed me into this day. I lathered and washed infusing my skin with her radiant energy. Armoring myself against the onslaught of human preoccupation, the ignorant forgetfulness that we are an intrinsic part of the whole.
Thank you moon glow, your touch has lifted me. I shall not forsake your gift, nor ignore your virtues.