Moosong

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Where the wind moves the branches of the trees and the leaves shake until they fall to the grass, could it be called silence? Where wolves hunt their next prey?

It is not danger, it is just nature. If we talk like this, major cities with forbidding walls and high towers cannot be more dangerous. Wherever there is a person, it cannot be more unpredictable.

Before and far from the great nations, there are nights full of magic. Where reality seems to change, where nothing seems to be true, where dreams grow like magnolias, where the Moon is the sovereign of the dark kingdom.

I stepped barefoot into the lake and ripples spread across the surface, a ceremony to become one with the water that reflects the starry sky and the treetops. Cold on contact with the skin, it gradually soothe my soul deep down. Very cold. Could something like this really be comforting? It has little to do with whole afternoons lying in the spring meadows.

It could be called loneliness as much as noisy silence. The silvery fireflies appeared as if they were stars escaping from the kingdom of heaven, like snowflakes that never fall.

…

Then that memory came back behind the branch of a weeping willow. One that warmed the heart, one that gave light to that night, meaning to so many things that I would not have understood before. I never believed that Moon Song was for me, but my soul embraced it tightly.

I began to feel raindrops falling on my shoulders and hear the sound of thunder in the distance. No, it wasn't the end of danger, it wasn't the end of insecurity, it wasn't the end of sadness.

It was the reason to keep going for another day. And to smile sincerely.

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