| Home Just In Communities Forums Beta Readers Dictionary Search | Login Register Extras |
"If you cry because the sun has gone out of your life, your tears will prevent you from seeing the stars." Ginny Cantrell
People say that the night is dark and deep and terrifying. They think of the monsters they saw under their beds as children and they think of the spiders and bogey men hiding in the shadows, the monster in the cupboard and the hell hounds in the darkness. They think of the darkness of hell and the brightness of the sun, the sun which blinds us all so much, and makes everything seem black and dark. They think of all those stories, where the hero braves the dark, and the blackness of the night in those stories. People think of bad things that lurk and crawl and growl and scream. And they can only see the evil and the darkness of it. That consuming, swallowing darkness that means you can’t see your love lying next to and that means when you wake up from a nightmare, there’s nothing but the darkness you tried to escape to great you.
But when people think of all those things, and when they hide in the light of the sun. They forget that in the night there are so many beautiful things, so many diamonds in the dark night sky; the stars that shine down on us and they light the way for sailors and travellers. And the sister moon to the sun, that reflects the light of the sun to comfort us all so dearly, and that wanes with each passing day as her energy dampens with the strain. Only for her to heed our prayers and grow and protect us once more as her duty commands. And those flowers that need the comforting embrace of the night to protect their flowers from the burning rays of the sun; and the animals that find hope and life in the silver light of the moon. People fail to see the beauty of the owl in flight and the fragile petals of the moonflower. And people forget the protection of the moon that we once so regularly praised by our ancestors and worshiped so dearly. And even now as she shines down upon us, with the strain of borrowing light at the cost of her weakening, she embraces us still. And we are loved.