Dream Interlude #2

The moon is so bright. And so tiny, distant, cold. Not like before, I reflect, not like the broad hazy moon that hung in the twilight sky. So small you could mistake it for a star -- or have I? Three bright stars shine in the black sky and I am no longer sure which is the moon. I pinch my fingers together in front of my eyes, squint through the diamond-shaped hole to squeeze away the glare.

Smaller and smaller, until suddenly, just a speck where I'd thought the moon was. I hold my breath, frozen. And then -- it falls. Trailing golden dust through the sky. I start to cry out to the others in wonder but I don't need to because the whole sky now shimmers with falling stars, like a fading firework. We step out from the shelter to feel them on our skin, tiny shivers of gold, rain of pure light; refreshing, magical.

Each of us is alone, our thoughts far away, remembering every detail of the caress of the falling stars to share with the one who should be there with us. A friend's boyfriend clings tight to me as we begin to dance, slowly, under the dark sky, and he professes to me his love for her.

But I am not lonely. Because the stars are beautiful, the world is beautiful, love is beautiful; and, compared to the stars, he is not so far away.

And because I will tell him, later, as he holds me, and he'll feel the touch of the stars through my skin, and see, somewhere deep in my eyes, the miracle of that moment when the stars began to fall.