The moon whispers of eternity as I dream in the black rain. I stare out from the safety of my window. With the lights off, I can almost see it, obscured by tendrils of rain clouds. How many people before me have seen it? How many people after? The witness of immortality. I can almost remember staring at it many times before, with different eyes, some not even human. I’ve always been told I’m a dreamer. Yet there’s something out there, something in here, my soul, that tells me things are not as they seem in reality.
Eternity is a dream itself. Perhaps it is the dream the moon has everynight? I can see I’m making little sense. I’m still trying to wrap my mind around the idea. When I look at the moon, I can see them, all of them looking too. Many eyes, past, present, and even future, stopping to appreciate the beautiful dreamer among the stars. I can hear the whispered promises of consistency, reliability, gentle, and on-going life like a soft song heard from far away.
Even the way it circles us, like an ever-present protective parent, gentle and leading. The sun has always been there too, but its bright, harsh light is not as attractive as the slumbering moon. The planets revolve around it, a self-centered orb. Not like the moon who catches the sun’s light to cast her soft glow on us.
And I think this is going flat so I’m going to end there hehe ^^”