The wild moon watches over the world with lashes heavy with tears. She sends out a soundless plea for an awakening.
For every pair of eyes that stop to gaze up and admire her beauty, she sends back her own prayer:
Stop the hatred.
Stop the hurt.
Stop the heartbreak.
She looks to her sky mates for support. But some stars have been sleeping for too long. They have dropped into the depths of a silent slumber and have forgotten how vital their sparkle is.
She urges them to wake up. She needs their unity so that the sky can once more be a glittering bed of hope for the tired, scorched earth below.
She whispers softly to them “When did you stop burning with love?”
The stars say nothing. Some of them turn away, not wishing to wake.
The wild moon lets her tears spill over and the blue black night sky is filled with rain as she sheds her sadness.
She decides to close the curtains on a too-dark night that she cannot light alone.
A glimmer. The faintest, smallest spark. A star has woken.
Then another. And another. Soon the sky is dancing. It’s coming alive with love. One of the stars comes over to the moon and says:
“Mother Moon, there is still so much darkness. How will we ever be bright enough?”
The moon smiles at the small star.
“Sweet star, we will blaze our beauty until we are impossible to ignore.”
I wrote these words yesterday after learning that the UK plans to bomb Syria and after hearing the news that there has been yet another mass shooting in California.
My heart hurts with the sadness of it all.
Such gifts we are given that we seek to destroy. We have taken purity and made it cloudy with our greed to own and orchestrate all that the earth lovingly gives. Sometimes it just seems too hard.
But I will always look up to a night sky and feel hope. I will always search for that solitary star that joins forces with a mourning moon.
I will always believe that I can make a difference. And I will always keep my heart open in love so that you might join me and do the same.