When we sat beneath the evening 

sky, we saw a million miles that

will never be ours.

When we sit beneath the same evening 

sky, we see the million miles 

we now call “ours” every 

day.  “Manifest the moon and 

stars, and they shall be yours 


This stunned me beyond belief. The idea, the notion,

the mere suggestion that fate could be commanded,

and our imagination

that the full weight of the heavens 

would yield to us and our spoken 


Those burning, brazen giants still

burdening to light darkened nights 

and daydreamed mornings, on their

knees for us? No. the heavens

shall never move to follow us.

They will always stand in their spots in the 

sky, but we shall reach them anyway. 

For what is the moon, if not simply 

stealing sunlight to call its own? What 

weight do the heavens have, if 

they are simply suspended in space? And  

what are those distant stars, if 

not fires waning while ours grow 

stronger every day. The universe

will be ours someday, and we can 

call ourselves our own 

masters. We shall sit beneath the 

same evening sky and see

the crescent moon, cradling its own

shadow. Above us, a billion 

burning stars, millions of miles

  away. Our fingers, not even an 

inch away, collecting all the stars

  we ever dreamt of having

For all of our late nights and early mornings, Padayon UP Batch 2023.

Artwork by Glendford Lumbao

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