During a ten minute break at work, an endless waltz.

I saw the moon today.  It's not like it was the first time I saw it in my life. Obviously.  It wasn't as though a new revelation dawned upon my frangible mind as to feed its curiosity like a mother bird landing on its nest to feed her young.  On the contrary, it was a plain moon in plain daylight almost at 3 quarters full.  Plainly.  Nothing new. Nothing special.  Nothing surprising about it at all.  The delight we shared came from the musings that followed suit when I gazed at it.

The moon has seen all of human history since it was spoken into existence.  Even mine.  It has been hanging upon an invisible thread endlessly waltzing around in perfect tempo either in daylight, within the azure sky, or in the night, the hours in which we should thank its illumination.

And so I mused.  I surmised that the moon was lonely from tirelessly pursuing the sun in the horizons, but never reaching the closeness it desires.  Even the time allotted to them, on those rare occasions, is never enough to warm its cold mass floating in the sky.  Perhaps, it desires more from the sun.  Perhaps, the sun clothing the moon from afar with raiments bedecked with light did not satisfy this endless waltz they shared.  Whether the moon was content, I could not answer.  It reminded me of the ancient kings and queens and how they did not share bed chambers in the very kingdom they owned.  The queen would have to wait for the king's visitation to her chambers upon his own volition.  Whether the queen grinned or grimaced from the king's visit, or lack thereof, it did not matter.

And so I mused.  I surmised again that the moon must be jealous of the sun.  Humanity wakes when the sun rises in the horizon; its popular.  People make time to enjoy the sun on more occasions than not.  And when the moon rises in its glorious dress full of radiance when the sun sleeps, most of humanity stays locked inside their homes and only a few come out to appreciate it. Perhaps, even in daylight when the moon is up, the sun does not even notice it.  Perhaps, the sun's own radiance hides the moon as if ashamed of its blemish like leafless tress hiding their colors from the dread of winter until spring.

Fascinating isn't it?  How the moon's brilliance in the night provokes love and intimacy on this earth and, to its unwarranted extreme, cultic practices and bizarre rituals.  It has witnessed love and romance; heartbreak to heartache, life unto even death.  Empathy overtakes me.  Whether the moon, witnessing intimacies and tragedies, has found hope, or lack thereof, to waltz on, I could not answer.

And so I mused.  I surmised that the moon desired a companion.  A second moon just beneath it.


And then I wondered what it would be like to live a life under two moons.



And then it hit me.  A question.

What if its the sun pursuing the moon?

And so I stopped musing because I realized what an endless waltz this was.

I realized why I stopped...