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G – 17 August 12, 2017

Clariza Mae Sevilla 12 – Simplicity

BENEATH A MOONLESS SKY


based on a personal experience with the stars themselves

“Twinkle, twinkle little star! How I wonder what you are. Up above the world so high.
Like a diamond in the sky. Twinkle, twinkle little star! How I wonder what you are.”
Have you ever been beneath a moonless sky? Have you ever seen a clear, night
sky unperturbed by the lights of the city? Have you ever heard a night that’s fallen on
silent ears?
Such kind of night is rare—I personally love saying it happens once in a blue moon.
You might have never experienced it, but I have. And it’s an experience worth a lifetime
of waiting. It’s a sight to behold and it only happens when you’re beneath a moonless
sky.
It first happened to me during a citywide blackout and, unable to bear the
suffocating atmosphere, I stepped out of the comforts of my house and heard nothing
but silence. The ground was cold beneath my feet and the air was still. The night waited
with bated breath as I looked around and saw nothing but darkness; buildings were
shrouded in shadow, trees blended together, and not a soul was in sight. Something
called out to me from the great beyond, urging me to look up. I heeded its call and was
stunned by the sight before me.
Above were celestial objects, too far to touch, but too near to be unseen. They were
stars. Stars that were thousands of light years away, bubbling with hot gases, and
chemical reactions but somehow, of all the people in the world, I was the one who was
able to gaze on their beauty and at that exact moment, I was speechless as I drank in
the wonderful view.
The night sky was limitless—infinite. I didn’t know where the stars ended and where
they began. They were just there. Trancelike, I slowly started seeing familiar
constellations. Constellations like Orion, Cancer, the Little Dipper, the Big Dipper,
Capricorn, and several others, twinkled above me—the stars were more than I could
ever count in a lifetime and I dearly wished I could. My hand reached out in a feeble
attempt to hold one in my palm and see its beauty up close, but was only able to hold
nothing but the cold night air. I wanted to put the night sky in a jar and gaze upon its
beauty whenever I wanted to but that’s not how things worked.
I knew that I couldn’t take the beauty out of something beautiful and keep it to myself
because if I did, that object wouldn’t be beautiful anymore and I wouldn’t have any
beauty left to get in the first place. If I take away what makes something special, will its
“specialness” remain special when it’s not with the thing that makes it special? If I could
have taken away the brightness of a star, would its brightness have remained “bright”
when it was not with the star anymore?
Minutes later, my eyes were still full of stars. My pupils were still dilated, and my
mouth still hung open with awe. There in front of me were billions of little pinpricks—like
holes that peeked out to a new universe—scattered across the black curtain enveloping
our side of the Earth. I was able to see clusters of stars—galaxies—that would forever
lay untouched by man’s harsh hand. It was unfathomable how I could see celestial
bodies that would never be within my grasp. Never in my lifetime would I be able to hold
them in my hands. Never in my lifetime would I ever be able to see them up close. And
never in my lifetime could I ever grasp their untold stories. No matter how many times
I’d sing of my love for the stars, it would be foolish to expect the stars to love me back.
I recalled the rhyme I used to sing when I was young: “Star light star bright. First star
I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.” I remembered
that many poems in this land sing praises to the stars, which symbolize hope.
Numerous tales of love and despair are carefully woven to have the characters wish on
a star, and subsequently succeed in their quest. In reality, it is quite ironic that humans
would wish on something that’s not even there anymore. No matter how many times we
wish upon a star, it holds no power to grant our wishes. My hands were powerless to
grasp them and keep them close to my heart.
And there in that moment, beneath a moonless sky, I realized with absolute
certainty, that no matter how long I stared at those heavenly bodies and yearned to be
close to them, I’d never be able to comprehend the powers they held, if they even held
any. These stars were created and destroyed long before I was even born into this
world. So why did they taunt me so?
Like a sensible child seeing a piece of candy just beyond her reach, I sighed in
frustration and plopped onto a nearby chair. Arms crossed with indignation, I glared at
the night sky for showing me something so beautiful, and leaving me breathless with
delight, but keeping it far from my grasp. It was such a cruel twist of fate.
I suppose it may be for the best. Who knows what will happen if man ever gets their
hold on these untouchable objects? There may be damage beyond repair, and power
that should never be held. There is a reason why stars are called “celestial objects.”
Their powers and secrets are not meant for terrestrial beings. No one would ever be
able to understand them, and perhaps that’s a good thing.
No matter how hard I tried holding a grudge on those stars, it definitely didn’t last
long. They seemed to radiate an apology as they twinkled innocently in the soft breeze
that followed. I closed my eyes and relished in the perfection I had taken part in. I
opened them, expecting everything to have gone back to normal, and that no ethereal
beings gazed upon me from above but the night sky still remained splattered with white
and red pinpricks of light.
My smile matched the brightness of the stars but unfortunately it didn’t last for long.
Because machines suddenly roared to life and artificial lights flickered back on. The
silence was broken and the blissful moment of ecstasy was gone. Long gone.
Just like the stars themselves.

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