I’m out on the fire-escape with my guitar; back against the wall, night spread out against the sky…the silent roar of eternity all around.
Tonight, the moon is huge and luminous, full of poetry. But the day has been difficult and followed me up the stairs. I feel complicated and distant…not the right space to appreciate her pale beauty.
Suddenly, from up above…a Voice calls out. “She’s just a big rock drifting in space, lit by borrowed light. Nothing more. But that’s her power.”
The words seem to fall from the landing two flights up. The Voice is husky with overtones of cigarettes and booze. But tonight I hear an angel calling out above the world of hard living.
Before I can answer, the Voice speaks again. “Get through all the projections and she’ll give you an honest moment…no pretense, no fake news…just you and freakin’ eternity.”
I put my guitar down, take a few steps up the fire-escape. Nothing but empty space. I gaze up at the moon again…a little closer now, a little more intimate.
From slightly farther away the Voice comes again. “Stare at her too long and you go mad. Ride it out a little longer…and …well…anything can happen.”
There was a small, private laugh…then she was gone.