From Afar

I loved the moon. She was otherworldly – her gentle love was ethereally beautiful, her heart was ivory-pearl pure – and I collapsed into her outstretched arms. Her presence softened me and lulled me to sleep like an elegant lullaby. Her love touched me so deeply and nourished the safe spaces of my soul. I imagine our souls intertwined into a perfect crescent, soundly at peace.

She had power over the tides of my emotions – she had the capacity to evoke restoration, and stillness, and I could walk those calming waters under her glow for a lifetime. But her power over me was too strong, and I was swept out to sea by the hugeness and ferocity of the waves she created. She stranded me, and I could only find my way back when she found her light again. She was always there, but rarely ever full, and always just out of reach. Despite how much I told her so, she did not believe in her own beauty, and she hid behind the swirling clouds – I could only catch glimmers of her pale, shy, and shadowed face. When I could not find her, on those nights in the abyss of never-ending, ultraviolet sadness, I looked to the stars. I dreamt that the stars would save me – that Orion himself would step out of the sky and chariot me to the heavens. Then one day, within that dark chasm, a warmth flowed through my spirit and revitalized my sense of purpose.

* * * *

I loved the sun. She was radiantly golden, she was life itself, she was joyously, unforgivingly herself. Her energy was palpable, and she brightened anyone who crossed her path – even if they didn’t take the time to appreciate her in return. Her spirit rested solemnly at night, but she painted the sky good morning and goodnight so I would not miss her too much. She was always there behind the rain clouds, waiting for them to part so she could shine freely once again. On those days when my hope faded, she gifted rainbows to show that she – that life – was more than just sunflower happiness – that every color, every feeling, every moment – was infinite.

Her power was gravitational, and I got too close – close enough to set me alight. For a moment, I shone as brightly as she always does, until she burned me alive, and I drifted with the wind back down to earth. I scattered through dust storms, with tropical rain, and across frozen tundras. I was free with the wind – I was everywhere – I was nothing. Once again, I found myself drifting, but I was no longer afraid. I didn’t look to the stars this time – I dared not find inspiration in the sky again.

* * * *

Eventually, the breeze settled, and I planted my roots in the muck and decay that became my home. I found solace in the black void – there was nothing, I was nothing. I spread through the richness of the experience and savored each feeling before I felt brave enough to emerge. That day, I felt her – I was so grateful to see her again – and I reached for her. She kissed my skin between the bouts of cool rain, and the wind swept through my hair to carry parts of me to grow elsewhere. I still love the sun, but from afar – and maybe that’s the way it’s supposed to be. When she leaves me again at nightfall, she still paints the sky, and I dream of her.

* * * *

I am awoken by an angelic spotlight, wishing me a restful night. She says she still loves me too, and she will always be here when the sun leaves, even if I cannot see her. I still love the moon, but from afar – and maybe that’s the way it’s supposed to be.