Author's Note: This is full to the brim with metaphors, to the point that it might be overdone. Anyway...
The moon is almost too bright tonight, lighting my path, and the stars are almost outshined by the vivid, yet pale moon. I wonder how something so far away can shine so brightly before I realize what I've thought.
How can something so far away shine vividly enough to light a pathway through a pretty dark and cold night?
I lay in the grass and look up, but there isn't much to see; the moon is blotting out the stars. But in all of it, I can see Orion, marked by his belt, the three stars in a row, and apart from seeing the stars, I can actually see Orion, I can see his bow and his hand and his quiver and his head, and it looks, for the first time I can remember, like a real person, shooting an arrow into the sky.
I wonder if Orion was handsome, and whatever possessed him to hang out with the stars, nearly faded because of the moon, and why he stands at such an odd angle to the ground from here, like he's shooting the edge of the world. And I wonder if Orion ever knew that someone in a small town with a pretty insignificant life would ever look up and see him, eternally shooting an arrow at a target that's already run away, and I wonder if he knew that his arrow means so much more to the stargazer than a piece of wood with a pointy end.
I wonder if Orion ever knew that there are people here and now that need a hero so desperately, when there's a hero waiting for them, if they'd just look up. Funny how a mind can work sometimes, huh?
The moon is almost too bright tonight, but it suits me just fine. I can see my path and feel the wind against my face, and even though it's night, I can see enough to get by. I wonder if Orion ever knew that hanging out with Andromeda and Vega and Betelgeuse would ever change someone's life, and I wonder if he ever knew that there would ever be a Christ for a lonely and afraid stargazer to turn to. I wonder if he ever questioned his own beliefs or if he just followed along with Zeus and Hera.
Somehow, I don't think so. An archer, a hero, a man in the stars, he must have at least wondered, like I do now, what's going to happen tomorrow? Will the stars hang up in the sky and glitter and sparkle hope tomorrow? Or will everything change? Will I be up in the stars and shake hands with Cassiopeia tomorrow?
The moon is almost too bright tonight, and I know now, how something so far away can shine so brightly, so vivid that I can see the path ahead of me by it.
It's just that bright.