*This was an old one too, but I like it.*
I gazed off into the distance. The night was cool and somehow expansive. It felt like a night in which anything could happen. It seemed as if magic could strike sparks that would ignite some great and powerful change at any moment. It was the kind of night that you wish you had somebody to share with, but even to be alone on the hill, breathing the crisp, fresh, Autumn air felt like something to be proud of. It was as if I had created this beautiful spectacle through sheer act of will alone. It felt as if this moment was my reward, some ancient being whispering in the darkness, through starlight telling me: “It’s okay, you are a good girl.”
It was the kind of night where the fireflies dance and light the air with their subtle illumination imitating the very stars twinkling above. The tiny creatures felt a kinship with the mighty stars they saw flickering in the heavens above. And there was a connection shared between the two that was both great and small and all of the rest of us merely existed in vastness created by the space between the infinite and the minuscule. It inspired awe within me, that I alone was chosen to be there in that moment, experiencing two extremes of the universe. The cool grass danced in the wind tickling my smooth legs and caressing my naked toes. Somehow in that moment I knew what it was to be loved. The sky above me an ocean with sparkling gems dancing in their tides.
I had waited all my life for the magic that would change my life, that would change my existence. I wanted something that would transform me into who and what I wanted to be, who I felt like I really was. Somehow in the starlight I captured that feeling as children capture fireflies in bottles so they can keep the magic of the night a glow within boundaries they can understand. I was lucky. I had managed to capture something that would not wither and die by morning surrendering its magic to the stark realities of the physical world. I would not be left with a husk that filled me with sadness instead of wonderment. I would hold the feeling and carry it deep within me. And in that feeling existed a knowing and a rightness. In that moment existed both a longing and sense of being found. I would carry the magic of that moment throughout my life, only discarding it when I ascended outward and upward. I think with the right kind of eyes it would like glittering sand dancing in the wild wind, or maybe fireflies dancing in the cool, crisp air on a summer night by a hill. Or maybe it would look like the stars themselves moving away towards places where only love, understanding and compassion lay.
Our lives our but kisses on the form of this plane of existence.
Our thoughts tickles on the alien skin of some unknown giant.
We dance upon the sky.
Every step throughout our days is a mighty transformation.
It’s those with magic eyes who choose to see, us.
It’s those special few that we can believe; that we can believe in.
It’s those that we allow ourselves to love, for even though they may cause pain, and may cause hurt, they also create joy and love.
It’s love that makes us weightless and gives us the chance to fly.
At least I hope so…