Waiting on the moon

The plains at the ahn when day meets night is one of mixed emotions for me. There is an infinite sadness, realizing this day can never be regained, and a wellspring of hope for the moments that are coming. While I waited for the children of Mother Moon to begin their play in the sky, I traced over the bits and pieces of the day departing. I had probably done this every evening of my life, ever since I could remember. Enthralled with the stories that Yama told me of the great powers above us.

I was proud of myself. Satisfied with my attempts, even if I had created some of the situations myself. I was pleased with my efforts, and happily amazed I was still alive. Had someone asked me at the start of this if I could survive alone on the plains, I would have had my doubts. But here I was, breathing in the crisp night air and staring at the fire drenched tops of matted grass. The good feeling expanded, floating lazily through my mind to gather up tidbits of my life and play them on the screen behind my eyes. I thought I had even handled this trip with good will.

When Yama had spoken of it, I felt a little hesitant. Suddenly I was a companionable girl being sent out to the market of life and put on display on the ready shelf. An odd feeling to be sure, for it was a bit of shyness twisted all up with arrogance and pride and brushed with a little doubt for good measure. But I soon realized we all reach a point where we are set upon that ready shelf. Either by our own hand or another's. We all stumble through twisted up with uncertainty and hopefulness. Kind of like our first kiss.