I’m sleepless in the jabal.
Wow. It’s been so long since I’ve seen the stars. It’s been so long since I’ve been alone with the world that was made to nourish me and for me to nurture.
I drove into the nowhere, past cars parked in the darkness, until there were no more lights from nearby villages. I stretched out on the roof of my car and fought back the tears that were tickling my lower eyelids. The children of the city have been denied the universe; the universe of far away suspended snow-flakes that will never reach the ground in our lifetime, the bottomless limitless globe of black glass that holds us in its steel silence. One tilt of the head backwards and man is humbled. Man is diminished into a speck on a speck and he is drowned out by the sound of crickets and the wind in the grass.
Would we not be more pleasant a race if every night before going to bed we’d see the sky peppered with countless twinkling fireballs instead of “Dancing with the Stars”?
A shooting star.
I should make a wish. Should I wish for world peace? Or should I wish for you to see this arc of the Milky Way and come across your insignificance?
Oh what are men compared to rocks and mountains?
Looking towards the sea, I see an endless stretch of clouds, bottoms of which are illuminated by villages, towns and a city. One peak juts out, like a black iceberg in a sea of white icing. Above it hangs Venus, passionately preening in the light of the sun. Further to the left is Mars, blushing as he watches her. Lastly, there is Saturn, a little lonely, a little mighty, yet ready to provide the rings if…
I’m in the company of gods and goddesses, isolated from the dirt and grit and sweat of people as a general! This is the top of the world. Skybar, anyone?
I feel like I belong. I shrivel up as cars drive by. It’s not the night I fear but the people she has cast her spell on. They leave me in peace; nobody wants to mess with a weirdo in pajamas, offering herself to visible gods on a metallic tray that makes bending noises as she rolls from side to side.
I’m spilling with awe and joy, and the only thing that is missing is a voice that would wow along with me and a warmth that would glow beside me.
My phone rings. The one who is missing. Imaginary Extraordinary Him. My rock, my warm bed, my curled toes, my special only, my my my…let’s be humble now, I only own my words and actions and never, anyone.
The emotion is mine, however. He is the cause, the emotion is the effect, take a deep breath, the two are separate. The two are halves. We are wolves beneath the unphotographable indescribable sky, howling into the receiver, tails between our legs, humbled by the force of love, they call it?