Leslie Sernaque Falcon
It’s strange to see the night sky and not see any stars, and it is not like I can always see them at home. Instead, what you see is a cloud of dust that doesn’t go away, stained with black and blues and purples that freeze time as if it is always a summer’s eight o’clock. Crickets on the ground, the trees as shadow barriers, nothing is silent like the night should be, no stars, no complete darkness. The moon is full tonight, there is light everywhere, people coming here and going there. For there are people and therefore there is light. And while there is light there are people out pretending it is still day. Full and plenty, the smile on my face watches.
On my last night at home, I sat in my back yard, the day finally over. The people have gone and everything that could stop moving has. I was able to look up and see the sky for what it was. It was dark. The moon told me to go to sleep with winds that push me inside. It had accompanied me for so long, but I would not think of it often. Yet, here standing where I am now, the moon hangs high in the enveloping sky standing out as blue rings echo from its face. It is in my mind.
Its face is full and it is peaceful. It watches over us like a mother, a gentle soul, making sure you sleep at night, waiting until you are able to be on your own again. There’s a glimpse of day that the moon saw but could not speak about, only listening softly behind the sheets of clouds. Silver and white, the rising moon watches over the lingering bodies like a night light that never stops. The more you stare you wonder if the glow is the last remainder of the day and the beginning of the new one.
Nothing is perfect, not even the night sky in its simplicity. The dusty sky is the remnants of active pollution. The colorful cars that come and go rolling along the streets create a monster they have been warned about but do not heed. The dust is thick like the fog of a winter’s morning only this one is full of something else. In the air, you will find bad decisions flown in the wind like a kite meant to stay there forever. Silence is not still, unlike the moon.
During the day, others speak of what the moon sees; the engines and the fog. They are not silent and the moon still watches even if just a little. It looks left and right and if you are lucky, on those special nights, you can see the stars when your head tilts up just a little bit and you really look. There are no helicopters pretending to be what they cannot, no satellites replacing distant space. All there is, in fact, is the silence of the night and the clarity of the moon. While silence is not true here, for there is movement, a hum, a buzz, an engine’s roar; the moon is full tonight and with just one glance you can see all, even though it’s not all there.