She was the night sky,
They were the twinkling stars of the night sky.
She was the poetess,
They were her poems.
She licked the fire and danced in ashes,
They were the fire and the ashes.
She survived chaos that is how she grew,
They thrived in chao...
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The sound of music filtered in through my earphones as I was riding my skateboard through the streets of the small town. Voices of the barking dogs followed with the faint music filled my ears. Up above me, the night sky held millions of secrets in the form of twinkling stars. How beautiful is the relationship between the moon and the dark night sky. So contrasting, yet so incomplete without each other.
This little town of South England has so much to offer yet nothing to offer. I came here two years ago. I feel like I have a connection to this land of the angels like there is a lot here but I am missing it.
As I was passing by a field of Dandelions I noticed there was a boy gazing at the moon, His face shining just like the moon he was gazing at. A small smile rested on his face. He looked so much at peace and didn't have a care in the world, he looked like an angel and here I was with chaos caused by my own mind.
For some reason I wanted to just sit there with him so I went and sat next to him and took my earphones off while taking in the scent of the flowers. They smelled bitter-sweet and aromatic note with whispers of citrus and rose. He glanced at me and passed me a smile and went back to gazing at the moon like it was an old lover of his.
A moment of not so much awkward silence passed. Although my curiosity got the better of me as I wondered what he would be thinking.
"What is human existence?" Before my mind went to its own haze, he broke the silence and asked. I was uncertain of why he would ask that," It's fairly simple: we are dead stars, trying to regain our feelings of majesty once again." He answered his own question. That statement amazed me. In a way that was tragic, yet beautifully expressed.
As he lay on his back, he looked at me like no one else had ever looked at me before. "Let the pretty lights of the night guide you to go home. You are going to find your home soon. This is the promise of the dark sky to you." I felt his words hit me like a freight train. They're painful yet something I've yearned for years. Home a word which sounds so foreign now. I was broken from my thoughts as he rose up. I wanted to ask him why he would say all these words to me but I couldn't. Neither I had the power to ask him and nor did my mute self allow it. I've been trying to find home my whole life, that was my last act of love.
"I know you want to ask me why would I say all those words I think we all deserve a soft epilogue, My love. We are good people and we have suffered enough. I just want you to remember my words and remember I existed." And with that he left I saw him leaving, walking to an unknown destiny to me. He was just like an angel.
"Until we meet again, Stay safe . And I will keep you In my thoughts till the very end." I whispered to the wind, maybe the wind will deliver my unsaid words to him.
I turned back to the field of Dandelions and bellis in front of me. With their golden flowers in the early spring, dandelions represent the return of life, the rebirth of growth and green after a harsh winter, and a display of abundant strength and power. The smell of flowers lingered there. I inhaled deeply one last time the scent of the flowers. Putting my earphones back on, a new song started.
