I talked to a moonbeam the other day. I lay in a field, the grass prickling my sun tarnished legs. I gazed up at the sky, squinting my eyes to catch the moonbeam mid flight as it rippled towards me.
I asked it questions that leapt like fish from the ocean of my mind
"where are you going?"
"where are you from?"
"can you see the future?"
"were you ever human too?"
The questions bubbled and frothed, bombarding the moonbeam. More & more spilt from me, slowing it until it stopped just above my head.
It seemed to ponder them all before caressing my face with its tentative light. The touch, as pure as silver weighted my eyes with sleep. In the world of dreams the moonbeam answered me with seductive slowness. Long pauses peppered the answers as it carefully examined the questions for their true meaning.
My soul sang at the answers. I could feel my body purring with the freedom of understanding. All mental barriers were knocked down one by one.
A fire came blazing through my dreams scattering the moonbeam and making my precious knowledge evaporate like dew.
Reaching out to grasp whatever remaining flakes I could my eyes burst open. The moon was gone, banished by an angry and jealous sun. The gift of understanding was scorched from my mind.
I thought I might cry but a sliver of silver remained. A moonbeam spoke to me, a truth that will survive the rational light of day.
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