Celestial Connection
He called during the first few minutes of the lunar eclipse. I was standing at the front of my building's courtyard, gazing into the dark sky - admiring the moon. The next occurrence is suppose to happen sometime in December of 2010. He asked me what I was doing and I told him that I was moon watching. "Awww... you're so cute..."
The moon was very round and was darting in and out of a gray haze of clouds and the shadow casted by mother earth. Its rims gleamed a vibrant fire red. Its body... a rosato haze... with the bright shining star, Saturn, to its left, and Orion to its top right... the moon was brilliant despite its waning luster.
The sky was mostly clear... a rich midnight blue. The stage featured the trio with me as its sole audience. I was the narrator too; describing the acts as they unfolded, careful in telling the story as how it was meant to be heard. The moon on his side of the world was unseen under crying clouds. Isn't it strange how one can see the same play, but tell a different story?
The stillness and silence of my surrounding was spellbinding. Not even a twitch from the closest tree or a rustle from the nearest bush. They too were listening.
My story continued and travelled to a far away land as I remembered our last celestial connection. We were atop my building's roof terrace 3am in the cold frigid morning, observing the most beautiful fireworks show mother nature graced us with. We held each other tightly, with our heads tilted towards heaven as if we were waiting for God's blessing of our union; gazing at the dark sky as bursts of shooting stars glistened passed us. "Look at that one! It's so beautiful!"
As we grew colder and the blessing wasn't bestowed on us, we turned to each other with a parting smile and returned back to bed together.
Last night was different. No blessing was sought or bestowed nor pondered upon. I retreated quietly. "The moon was beautiful", I said to the doorman.
The picture doesn't do any justice to the phenomenon, but it was an attempt to savor a non-repeating moment.
The moon was very round and was darting in and out of a gray haze of clouds and the shadow casted by mother earth. Its rims gleamed a vibrant fire red. Its body... a rosato haze... with the bright shining star, Saturn, to its left, and Orion to its top right... the moon was brilliant despite its waning luster.
The sky was mostly clear... a rich midnight blue. The stage featured the trio with me as its sole audience. I was the narrator too; describing the acts as they unfolded, careful in telling the story as how it was meant to be heard. The moon on his side of the world was unseen under crying clouds. Isn't it strange how one can see the same play, but tell a different story?
The stillness and silence of my surrounding was spellbinding. Not even a twitch from the closest tree or a rustle from the nearest bush. They too were listening.
My story continued and travelled to a far away land as I remembered our last celestial connection. We were atop my building's roof terrace 3am in the cold frigid morning, observing the most beautiful fireworks show mother nature graced us with. We held each other tightly, with our heads tilted towards heaven as if we were waiting for God's blessing of our union; gazing at the dark sky as bursts of shooting stars glistened passed us. "Look at that one! It's so beautiful!"
As we grew colder and the blessing wasn't bestowed on us, we turned to each other with a parting smile and returned back to bed together.
Last night was different. No blessing was sought or bestowed nor pondered upon. I retreated quietly. "The moon was beautiful", I said to the doorman.
The picture doesn't do any justice to the phenomenon, but it was an attempt to savor a non-repeating moment.
posted by Sparky X | 1:25 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home