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
someday”.
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
words.
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
