Sunday, November 16, 2008

dead of night how bright you glow

The moon and I had a chat the other night. I've always felt a special little affinity for the moon; she's a lot like me (and not just because of the name). Thursday night I was driving home from work and she had just risen over the mountains, about halfway up the sky. Wreathed in clouds and illuminating them so that half the sky was bright, she was full. (Awkward sentence much?) Her light was persistent, distracting me from the road and urging me to look at her, look at all the cool things she can do in the sky with those clouds.

I could hardly look away. I tend to be a dangerous driver just because nature is so lovely (when my essay is finished, I'll post it here and you can have another example of that). I even stopped at the store even though I didn't buy anything, just so I could look at the moon for a couple more minutes.

After work I went back to school. I had assignments to complete and the buildings don't open until six in the morning, so an evening job I went to. It didn't work out (my lab protocols rarely work out) and I was a little disheartened as I left campus.

The moon was high in the sky, shining down like a little spotlight. "Don't be sad," she seemed to be saying. "Look at me!"

I did. But you can't walk very far with your neck craned all the way up, so I didn't watch for long. It was so much smaller than it had been earlier. The clouds had all disappeared, and the stars were dull compared to the brilliance of the moon.

The next morning I walked to school just before sunrise. The moon was in the west, large and luminous as before, but in a background of blue rather than black and gray. "Hello," I said. I stole glances at her as often as I could, this new incarnation somehow more beautiful than any of the others. "Remember when I was a spotlight?" the moon still said to me. "I was really bright!"

later on that morning I couldn't help it; I looked for the moon again. once found, though, i had to recoil. This was not my shining companion of the night. She was pale, listless, fading. "I don't want to talk to you," I whispered.

She shrugged, apathetic in this new incarnation. "I'll be bright later on, if you will wait for me."

All I heard from the moon that night was a subtle glow at the rims of the mountains. "i can't wait for you to rise all the way," I said. "I am cold and tired and hungry, and you were so different this morning I don't know if I can face you."

"Maybe later."

"Feather Moon" ~ Vienna Teng

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