Digging for Meaning

If I were a king, I would declare it a birth right & a duty to look up and feed one's soul with the beauty of sky. Every soul deserves to feel the majesty of the great above -  The ominous greys rolling whites serene blues or the orange blue kisses of the setting sun... There is beauty in every sky. Every sky is free of our smallness, our worries, our angst. All hopes, dreams and realisations converge upwards above clouds and above satellites in the great beyond that our gazes seek and find above us.

How does the moon always manages to surprise me? Its always a shock to see something that beautiful and bright up above, without stilts or ropes. Right now its smiling to me on the western horizon - a thin crescent. Hiding & then unveiling from the silken black clouds. It holds the gaze and hides. and waits. and never does it let you know of its intentions. Gone for hours or minutes or seconds. Shining bright or pulling across its body, a thin cloud ever so slowly.