Endure

I went for a walk.
Just down the dirty old road,
the one with the dried sage
lining the way up
to that rocky mountain top.
The fires were harsh that year
and the faint smell of ash
lingered in the air
as I made my way up
past the blackened husks
that were once proud Yucca,
now, little more than smoked gravestones
against the reds and yellows
of the setting sun.
It was not until I crested
the turquoise face
of that stony mountainside
did I see him there,
up in the sky.
The moon.
He was in wonderful form that night,
a waxing crescent,
I believe they call it.
I looked up into the night sky
and pondered the idea of the moon
always chasing the sun,
when to my surprise,
he leapt down from the heavens,
like a brilliant shooting star,
and landed on the ground in front of me.
My words and my mind left me in that moment
but I recall his face,
to an alarming degree.
Hair, like a silvery stream of comet dust
upon which sparkling motes of light
did orbit around his fair features.
His eyes were not unlike two eclipses,
from which a light far brighter than I have ever seen
emanated gently from,
like calm waves lapping against some time-forgotten shore.
His lips, lapis in color,
smiled upon seeing me.
“You are thirsty, traveler. Perhaps a drink
would set you right?”
And from his hand did he produce the most
ornate chalice a man such as myself
should ever lay hands on,
and within this silver goblet
swirled an elixir most agreeable;
far clearer than any diamond
I had ever seen,
and sweeter than any kiss
that I had graciously received.
Immediately, I was refreshed,
my aches dissolved.
His pearly eyebrows furrowed,
“There is a question burning within you,
friend.”
For indeed there was.
He smiled gently,
“Tell me.”
His head tilted quizzically to one side,
looking as he did in the night sky
not a few moments earlier.
“Every night, you chase the sun.”
I stammered, in awe of his composure
and stoicism.
“Yet you are never able to be with her.
Never, in all of your nights,
do your efforts matter. I suppose
I wish to know
what advice you could give to a man
who finds himself following
in your footsteps?”
The moon laughed,
reminding me of the twinkle
one may see should they gaze into the cosmos.

“My dear friend, the sun has never needed me. Do you see how she shines?
Not for a moment has she needed my help in bringing life to this planet.
She gives selflessly, allowing her love and light and warmth to radiate
to the farthest depths of space. But imagine, if you will, what the sun must think
when she turns to face the world that grows dark in her absence, and she sees myself,
illuminating but a fraction of what she would, yet knowing that I am there,
supporting her in the best way that I can. Is there no greater symbol of love than that?”

I stood there,
speechless,
basking in the ashen glow
of the man that stood before me.
“Now, I must be going.
I dare not miss her.”
And with a mighty leap,
he soared into the night sky
stardust in his wake,
as he perched himself
back among the stars.
I went for a walk.
Just down the dirty old road,
the one with the dried sage
lining the way up
to that rocky mountain top.

~LT