The dance shall go on, I love you the moon

I was walking in the dark streets. I like when there's no one around, except me, and this sleeping city, standing still, like a living painting. The moon was hanging full in the sky, behind a thin veil of clouds walking over it, casting an everchanging halo around her. Such a fragile, beautiful moment. In her silence she was telling me «Do you realize how lucky I am, that right now, you give life to me, you make me be, simply by looking at me, as I am, nameless, in the eternal now». And I answered, «I am the one who is lucky and blessed, to have seen you tonight, how beautiful you are, a jewel in the sky with nothing else to do than to be what it is, a pearl of untold beauty and ageless wisdom. Am I dreaming you? Or are you dreaming me?» And the moon answered. «Both, my love. We are one.»

I love to be in the presence of these forces, so selfless and pure like newborn childs and the birds and the moon. Like the cool spring wind on my skin. The tree wearing its new pale green leaves. I look at these humans being, thinking that like everything else, they will someday fade and go away. And for that I love them as they are. Snowflakes, all unique and wonderful, about to melt into the sea. The saint to the killer, they are all beautiful, they are what they are. Nothing lasts. Not even death. Not even this world, this sun. Everything dances. Nothing really matters, except love.

And the dance, its poetry, so beautiful. I open my arms, tears on my cheeks like dew at dawn, filled with this unspeakable admiration for life and light and things, I worry no more, fear is no more, I feel empty, so light, at home.

And I realize. I am, because this universe is. And one day I will be even lighter, leaving behind all that I learned to carry since birth and that I don't need, my fears, my desires my memory, my loved ones, my name, my body, my life.

So many living in misery and pain. Being a human is a cruel game. Rich or poor, possessing everything or nothing, at peace, or at war, we get so lost, so lost. For both peace of heart is out of reach. Because we forgot.

But we remember, always. And it makes it even more painful.

Grace, welcome me in your arms. Forgive us. Soon it will be all over.

And for all those who felt it, share it.

Poor, poor humans. Poor hearts.

Bring even more poverty and blood and ignorance. Maybe this way one day we will wake up. Everyone, together.

But that's ok. Nothing last. And one day all this pain will become silent, as the world is turned into ice, burned by an aging sun, and the whole humanity disapearing like it never existed. And make place for something else. You have not a lot of time. You're free to wake up, or not.

The dance shall go on.