Words that Burn

Moon

  I want to be the moon. So strong and simple standing in the sky. Bright with depths further than the eye can see. Every night I rise, bringing back the light that has run away with the sun. I wake as the planet beneath me goes dark. I shine down so those tiny few moving below can see and be awoken. I glow white, mimicking the stars that accompany me through the night. But my favorite part? There on the opposite skyline I watch the colors of the sunset fade to grey. She never stays awake long enough for me to say hi. I only see the ending trails as she passes to the other side of the earth, giving what I'm sure is the most beautiful view to the fragile beings living below. Sometimes when I look up, I can see her shining all the way to my side of the sky on the clouds above me. I bet she is so enchanting. I want to ask her what it's like to be so colorful. I wish I could wake up sooner and talk throughout the night with her. What is the sun like? Does it talk to her when she wakes up? What is it like when you light up the clouds and set streaks of paint across the open land? Is it lonely without the stars to accompany her into waking and falling asleep? I want to tell her of the peace and beauty I see within the silence of so many humans sleeping below me and the magic when the land is cast into the monochromatic glow of my presence. I want to ask why she is so colorful and mystifying and I am so colorless. Does she too feel scared when the clouds cover her? Does the sun comfort her when she can't be seen like the stars do to me? I want to ask her so many questions and I want to talk to her until the sun chases us both away into the next dusk. But here I rise as she falls away and once again I am left to wonder through the night what it would be like to meet the sunset.