The night sky

Last time I sat under the stars was 5 weeks ago,
Where I just sat 
And thought of all that happened; 
Of the simple pleasures of putting my feet up, 
of being taken care of, 
of being at complete ease. 

You see - the stars? - they remind you of distance, 
Of galaxies far far away
Each one representing a life that could've been, 
A life that should've been, 
A life that you chose not to be in. 

So you stare up, and you wonder,
And the stars wander the loops of thoughts with you - 
Each twinkle a light of reminiscence, 
Each cloud a foggy memory of the past,
and every single sound
A reminder of something that had once happened; 
both so close that you feel like you just have to reach out with your hands and grasp at the invisible straws, 
but deep down you know- 
You know that the chilly air grazing against your palm will bring no warmth to the dusky corners of your heart.

It has been 5 weeks since I sat and stared at the stars. 
See, I can breathe more easy now- so i run out into the darkness less. 
And every time I am reminded of the cold nights I stay comforted under the covers;
I think instead of the beauty that arrives when the moon promises to illuminate the way. 
And I think about that round bright entity - freckles and all  - 
Sometimes hiding half its face, 
but always reminding you that nothing is where they seem to be. 

Because it is the epitome of juxtapositions, 
Reminding you forever that every single star out there, is so much further than it looks,
that reaching for it would be in vain; 
so you stay on Earth, 
enjoying the simple pleasures of the pouring rain. 

But OH! 
How beautiful the moon is, 
And so elusive and attainable all at once!
People used to think that the moon was made of cheese, 
and do you blame them? 
I mean, think of all that pizza! 
If that isn't the dream, I don't know what is. 

But I realised, 
I realised why I don't yearn for freedom anymore. 
Is it really freedom if all the wandering is trapping your soul in a constant state of chaos? 
Where you cannot figure out which one is near, and which one is far, 
and all the stars seem to do is twinkle in and out of sightl 
And you try. oh how you try to keep your eyes open,
Staring ceaselessly at the idea of light, 
Unwavering, unblinking, 
Oblivious to the tears welling at the corners, trickling down your cheeks.
And instead all you do is lose focus of the grass under your feet; 
and the moon- 
the beautiful beautiful moon....

The last time I went to look at the stars, 
the moon stole my attention.
It's hard to miss something that gravitates round and round the Earth. 
Incessant in its movements, 
confident in its direction,
resolved on its purpose.

I don't think the moon gets enough credit. 
It is so much easier to burn up and scorch everything in your path;
It is self destruction at its finest. 
But how much more does it take, 
to smile down- 
Knowing you are not what the lovers stare at in their rendezvous,
Or what the astronomers dedicate their life studying,  
But you reflect only the beauty of the burn; making it pleasant. 
You choose to hint at hope when the night is dark, 
and brighten the path of that overworked girl, clutching at her purse; 
determined to reach the safety of her home. 

I bet the moon smiles down though. 
See, children- in all their innocence - know better.
They don't chase after the stars from the backseat window.
They always mentally run after the moon, 
even if their eyes are protesting from staying open way past their bedtime. 
And you indulge them; 
playing peekaboo as much as they want to. 

5 weeks in, 
I still have not been tempted to run for the hills in search of the stars. 
I found the moon. 
And when the moon peeks through my bedroom window, 
it feels like it found me too. 
What kills me is knowing that new moon is coming, 
and that I'll still leave the blinds open; hopeful.