a small token of kindness
tragic like the moist earth stuck between ruthless beings, there is something unusual about the sun and the moon; unburnt and unseen.
this star touches the surface of the earth with its fingertips disguised as rays; glorifying the passionate brown and marking it with the names of the powerful. there is no shift, no probable change in its hour of rising. it stayed.
when the moon aligns itself to the eyes of sight, there is little role played by its view but much by its beauty; it seeps into the veins and travels in them. and in the face of the bewitched, there is an old friend's shadow, like the fragrance of the moon in its breath. there was no shift, nothing happened. just the moon stayed.
were they stationary or in motion?
the world spins on a thin axis. it must keep up this action well. and it revolves around the sun, lest there should come upon it harm. moving, running, walking was fed in the lungs of a human long before the birth of other rules.
but stillness; was it ever elaborated upon?
observe the planet, its treausres and the mountains. the sun and the moon, the trees and the stars. there is somewhat an ache of a thousand moments lost in the fibres of movements. there is a deathly stillness. a form of indescribable loss.
adopt their techniques; of being frozen like the still seas and of surviving like its waves. to live, one must be a lunatic dreamer; search in the deep and die from the thirst.
there is never a movement of calm; always full of chaos that is fatal. too many of these repel life's purpose, for you get killed with the disturbances.
instead choose stillness; the way to believe in life without touching it.
#adropofhumanity
