Last night I watched the moon. It was a full, radiant moon and I spent a few good minutes talking to her, pondering how unique that moment was. And so I told her.
Who else is watching you right now? Dozens? Thousands?, I asked.
Nobody is watching you like I am, from here, from this particular corner, from these senses and this soul. In a way you are my moon, my own unique moon.
And then she did talk.
Or rather whispered.
I’m not yours and you are not mine, but we need each other, she said.
I need your gaze and your dance.
When you make all other rhythms truly yours, no one else puts the light on like you do.
What you do and what you try, right there. Only when you are, right there.
You sing your song, you dream your dream, you do your job.
It is your dance.
More words were exchanged, then we remained silent for while.
Right there, all the waves happened.
