Jeff
The moon. Unlike all other nights, looking out the window from the kitchen tonight rewards me with a new perspective of the moon.
She's hiding behind some tall coconut trees, beckoning n winking at me between the moving leaves.
She's just hanging over there, a soulmate accompanying me every night. So near yet so far. I wonder how can I be so insensitive to her presence.
For the first time, I discover I am intoxicated with love. A cosmic love with the moon, slowly by n by, becoming a poetic lunar lover.
She follows me wherever I go n would zip her lips n pause her wicked smile occasionally.
In the dark hours of the night, she lights up.
Dearest moon, I have lost my hate of you.
I am drawing closer n closer to u, like a moth to the light.
Om Ni
Hahaha, every night I too look out of my library/work station room. Sometimes d moon is there, bright n shinning. Sometimes a wan shadow of herself. Sometimes, she is not there. Looking, I often wonder is d goddess there, lonely n longing? Is she indifferent? Is she the keeper of lonely n longing souls, all wanting n missing something? Like trapped rabbits? Is she everyone's (favourite) soulmate? Or is she d one who is missing her own?
The moon, the moon. U cld go lunar over her. But such a patient n reassuring presence without whom humanity wld long have gone lunar anyway hehehe
Poets have waxed lyrical over her. And paupers dreamy too.
Hahaha even Li Bai had to use d moon as a metaphor when thinking of home
Poem By Li Bai
(A Quiet Night Contemplation)
床前明月光
疑是地上霜
举头望明月
低头思故乡
Yours truly's unpoetic layman translation
Outside the bedroom
The moon shines bright
The ground
seems frosted over
Looking up,
I see the bright moon
Looking down,
I think of home
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