Earth and Moon

My shadow casts itself upon the Moon making her appear smaller than she truly is. As I move, the Moon grows weaker. In her defense, it is all about the position she is in. She will never cover me up, I am too great. Her world revolves around mine, making me the most important. The Moon, her shapes and shadows so beautiful, will never be as breathtaking as me and my colors and mysteries. To the Moon I am everything.

I am alive! Living. Moving. Breathing. My breath is more important to the Moon than her own breath she breathes. My concerns concern her, my fears frighten her. In any situation, when I am well or distraught the Moon, she aches for me. She fears my need for her will dwindle to nothing.

Little does she know she is everything to me. Despite her small stature and lack of awe - she is what keeps me alive. She is my emotion, my dance. She pulls me in - captivating.

We are drawn to one another and she knows not. She is unaware of my need for her. If she were to grow wings and soar to another, well, I would end.

On the other hand, I know she needs me. I know her love, her deep rooted, unending love for me. And it fills my soul.

Sometimes I am afraid. Afraid the morning comes and evening never returns. I fear I'll never see the moon again. Never her piercing illumination in the darkness. Never her face on mine. Only the sun, what has the sun done for me? Nothing. Left me a desert. A barren womb - lifeless.

But the Moon. The Moon sings me songs no other could. Her voice is gravity.