(photo by Latent0Image on Flickr)
The moon, they say, is a mirror--a mere reflection of the sun's golden light. The Man in the Moon chuckles darkly at this notion. "The Sun," says he, "knows nothing. While the Sun stands at a distance, my ear is close to the earth. While the Sun's light is blocked out by fleeting gray clouds, I command the clouds, tinging them eerie shades of purple, green, and red. While the Sun is loud with its heat beating upon the earth, I am silent, my pale light softly illuminating the unseen. The Sun believes it is the center of everything, the largest thing in the universe. Haughtily, she cries, 'Look at me, the brightest of stars, the largest of lights!' But, ah, as for me, the Man in the Moon! The stars are my right hand, and distant galaxies my left. Who loves the Sun but herself? She proclaims how great is her love for men--yet who was the one upon whom men strove to walk? Who is the one who remains in the heavens when the Sun has vanished below the horizon? Only I, indeed."
All this he utters without a language. But as I look up at the noiseless moon, I see it all written in his ageless smile.
I'm a sci-fi/fantasy lover & writer who especially likes talking about Star Wars and futuristic tech. I like finding new things & finding the beauty in old things, especially in my "Everyday Snippets" series. I hope you'll join me on my blog and unleash your imagination!