Caliraya, by moonlight

Is that moonlight in the water?

I stand up to get a better view of my view of the lake. All things that could be still are still; only the crickets dare disrupt the enveloping quiet, but intermittent, as if they, too, suspect their cry a sacrilege to the calmness.

Muted rays of pale yellow light slant toward the surface of the water and I stare, fascinated. I wish the moment would go on, and on. I could feel the air and my fingertips, brushing against each other. I feel the hair on my nape rise at so much aliveness and for a moment, I picture myself, wrapped in moonlight, lost in the rapture of solitude. The mind reaches for the soul and is surprised at its nearness.

Above me, the sky is ablaze with starlight.

I shall always remember this. It is what I will take home with me. This beautiful memory of evening, lake, stillness, moonlight, and I, one with all--they shall find their way to one of my storage boxes at home; and some distant day, should the threat of chaos once more come knocking on peace's door, I will close my eyes and summon back this evening, reach out for this moonlight, and let go.

I will remember the light on the water and cast anxiety aside, push fear away. It should be enough.