I’m married to the moon. She’s passive, so you may not even notice her. But she’s there (almost) all of the time. Sometimes she’ll hide from you, so you’ve got to really look to find her.
Photo via Unsplash
She’s not always full, but nine times out of 10, she will have some visuals to offer. She holds her place gracefully in the abyss of the dark night sky.
Photo by Steve Halama
You may think that she’s nothing in comparison to her counterpart, the sun; man, is he ever bright and blinding. His presence is always known, even if his friends of clouds try to mask his appearance.
Photo by Emilia Syldatk
There is never a question of whether he’s around. You just know. He wants your presence and lights up everything your eyes can touch. But your eyes shouldn’t touch him. He’s too magnificent for us to fully grasp. We just live in his essence. His way of being guides us, whether we like it or not. We need him.
Photo by Patrick Selin
But, my dear moon, you ask nothing of us. You neither demand our attention nor require our admiration. You let us be free, however we choose to be. You hold us safe and comfort us in our time of need. You encourage rest. You allow our nature to exist as it is: free flowing, immersive and dynamic. Your intimacy and uncertainty engulfs me. It pulls me home daily. It provides me with a sense of home.
Photo by Javier Allegue Barros
Your movement is fluid and undefined by nature. All that you are is a form that somehow reflects the magnificence of the sun, so it is bearable for us to witness if we so choose.
Photo by Conrad Ziebland
But you are somewhat mysterious and somewhere foreign all the time. I wonder how time exists for you, moon. You are different from us. Yet, we are intimately bound to you. Intensely, we may experience your presence.
Photo by Eberhard Grossgasteiger
As long as I exist in relation to you, dear moon, I will know peace.