Moonlight
There is a feeling one gets,
In the pit of their stomach.
Late into the night,
Or early in the morning.
That tells them something unthinkable:
DO NOT SLEEP.
I can feel this.
In my stomach.
In my eyes.
My eyes do not want to close in the dark.
They are fascinated.
How much time do I have?
Minutes.
Hours.
A lifetime to do as I wish.
My eyes are wide open,
Blind against the black.
There is no color that I can see,
So I must add my own.
I begin to think.
And I begin to write.
I have thousands of word floating in my mind.
I desperately wish to write them down,
But I cannot see what I am doing.
So I turn on the light.
The light shows me the paper, the pen.
I grab both.
I sit in my bed, poised, ready to let those words flow from me.
But they are gone.
The light has washed them away.
So I try to remember small phrases.
“…suspended by a string…”
“…must grab…”
“…must hold on…”
And maybe, just maybe.
I can create something from these words,
That is wonderful.
The light inspires me.
I see color,
And I add more.
“My heart is racing like that of a wolf,
Running faster and faster through the dark woods,
Covered by the blanket of night.”
“My words are carpenters,
I can build a story with them.”
“Without the sun, we would see no moon.
What would become of that moon?
Still, it would revolve around the earth,
Unknown to us because there is no sun to enchant us with its beauty.
How could we live without either?
Oh, how I long to see the moon,
Though I am trapped inside my room, unable to see it through my window.
What would become of that radiant silver?
That has captured the hearts and souls of so many others?
It would be lost, lost forever, if not for the sun.
I long for the sun.
In the warmth of day, I see.
I see the vibrancy of my world.
I cannot compare these two opposites to anything else.
The sun and the moon are our guides, our essence.
Though we may live in different places, far from one another,
All of mankind is blessed to live under the same sun,
The same moon.
The same sky.
The same light.
There is no possibility of ever living without it.”
I am glad that I turned on my light in the darkness tonight.
But just as the black had blinded me once before,
The light now seems to do the same.
My eyelids become heavier than the moon itself,
Pulled down over my eyes like the never ending tide,
My stomach loses the feeling.
The butterflies are resting their wings.
My body aches to lie.
I become limp and drop my pen.
I turn out my light.
From now until morning,
Only the moonlight will shine tonight.
For that is all I need to keep me safe this night,
“Sleep, Bright Angel, sleep...”
In the pit of their stomach.
Late into the night,
Or early in the morning.
That tells them something unthinkable:
DO NOT SLEEP.
I can feel this.
In my stomach.
In my eyes.
My eyes do not want to close in the dark.
They are fascinated.
How much time do I have?
Minutes.
Hours.
A lifetime to do as I wish.
My eyes are wide open,
Blind against the black.
There is no color that I can see,
So I must add my own.
I begin to think.
And I begin to write.
I have thousands of word floating in my mind.
I desperately wish to write them down,
But I cannot see what I am doing.
So I turn on the light.
The light shows me the paper, the pen.
I grab both.
I sit in my bed, poised, ready to let those words flow from me.
But they are gone.
The light has washed them away.
So I try to remember small phrases.
“…suspended by a string…”
“…must grab…”
“…must hold on…”
And maybe, just maybe.
I can create something from these words,
That is wonderful.
The light inspires me.
I see color,
And I add more.
“My heart is racing like that of a wolf,
Running faster and faster through the dark woods,
Covered by the blanket of night.”
“My words are carpenters,
I can build a story with them.”
“Without the sun, we would see no moon.
What would become of that moon?
Still, it would revolve around the earth,
Unknown to us because there is no sun to enchant us with its beauty.
How could we live without either?
Oh, how I long to see the moon,
Though I am trapped inside my room, unable to see it through my window.
What would become of that radiant silver?
That has captured the hearts and souls of so many others?
It would be lost, lost forever, if not for the sun.
I long for the sun.
In the warmth of day, I see.
I see the vibrancy of my world.
I cannot compare these two opposites to anything else.
The sun and the moon are our guides, our essence.
Though we may live in different places, far from one another,
All of mankind is blessed to live under the same sun,
The same moon.
The same sky.
The same light.
There is no possibility of ever living without it.”
I am glad that I turned on my light in the darkness tonight.
But just as the black had blinded me once before,
The light now seems to do the same.
My eyelids become heavier than the moon itself,
Pulled down over my eyes like the never ending tide,
My stomach loses the feeling.
The butterflies are resting their wings.
My body aches to lie.
I become limp and drop my pen.
I turn out my light.
From now until morning,
Only the moonlight will shine tonight.
For that is all I need to keep me safe this night,
“Sleep, Bright Angel, sleep...”