When we first moved into our house, I knew which bedroom I wanted. To my dismay, I found my bed and everything else in the one I didn’t want. It was smaller compared to the bedroom I wanted, and it had a small baranda, which to this day, I have an urge to destory the wall so I could extend my bedroom. I wanted a quiet view, which the other room had – except for the occasional shepherd walk, but with time, I have started seeing the bits and pieces that this room offers through the window.
Tonight, I am sure I am not the only one in the West Bank to notice how the moon was bright and round the way it becomes during certain parts of each month. When we walked into our home tonight, I was almost tricked into thinking that a light was on, but the closer I got, I saw the light of the moon hitting as a blue light on the tiled floor.
Clouds of purple sat beneath the moon like a stage, and all those paying attention could watch the beautiful moon performing her own symphony into the night. She slowly raised herself into the sky, and the clouds slowly moved from under it, allowing clouds of gray to cover her like the curtains of a stage closing as the actors wrapped up their final act. Though, the moon tells us that this is not her final act, for the clouds remain, covering half of her while the other half appears to be a smile.
And slowly does she go further away until she reaches the middle of the sky. Then, our eyes begin to close, and the moon is the last to glow on us, telling us that her final act is over. You may sleep now.
How I long to stand on those purple clouds that were beneath the moon! How I wish the moon would be so close that it would gleam down on me and tell me, “The stage is yours. Tell the world.”
Wasn’t it the moon I once thought was following me home on the other side of the world? She found me…through the window of the bedroom I did not want in the house I have grown attached to in the place that breaks my heart.