The Moon, The Mirror, and The Circle

We have been waiting for this evening… It has been said that the angel descends by the farthest edge of the sky, where lies no clouds or fogs. The angel rises by the emergence of the moon, and as the moon gimmers over the canvas of the dark, one shall approach to seek for the guidance. Ah, much have I pursued the voice calling me, and by now I shall witness the moon’s ascension and find the path of mine; hence will the circle be complete.

Much lesson have I learned from the path shone by moonlight. It was but a reimagination of the long-forgotten past yet contained so much as I paced through; there were steps, breath, shadows, streetlamp, and occasional breeze. The moonlit path is the instruction that leads me over tonight; let me proceed.

You have come shortly earlier than the impending nightfall, where the firmament still retains a fragment of cyan and pink, leaving a brush of reddish cloud hanging by. That is when the sun emits its last remnant of light across the land, the precursor of the inevitable darkness. Friend, look over the east: at the far end of the direction has the dark blue canvas been rising in steps, overshadowing those weak remains of the sunlight. Hence will the sky no longer obstruct twinkling stars; they are the night’s diamonds.

Lamps are lit – I would never expect them turned on so early; daylight has not receded so thoroughly. Yellowish gleams are encountered by tree leaves; these leaves are dyed golden, as if sinned man has his soul purified. Ah, observe these golden leaves; they are the resemblance of those fairy tales, where hold the most innocent memory beyond the impure world. Alas, the world is the deepest hell, the ugliness of inferno: its purpose is suffering; its existence is desecration. But emerged from the most unpleasant land are well those ones who search for their redemption, which should only be found by the lurking of meditation. Those ones thus choose to tell the tales, either aloud or silent, and within the tales lie another residence of land, an ocean of mindfulness, and golden leaves. Goldens leaves are treasures; they remind me of so much.

Look ahead. Our destination is near; we only need to travel through the alley ahead. But the twilight has not yet dispersed, thus revealing the brightness of the path ahead. Aside from our direction lies a thousand crossings where you would spot those trees and apartments. With a thousand sceneries come another thousand stories, each of vast and novelty. Let them be reserved for the future explorations, as I shall not bother. How willful am I to take a photo of these! Bygone is not eternal, so will it only be preserved under texts or fixed photographs, for that they are the reminders of such unique experience. So unfortunate; in haste, they were never preoccupied or captured. At my words, remember it once and permanently: not a single drop of water lies perpetual in an ever-flowing stream.

Reminiscence has further been sensed; the place has been familiar to me. Indeed, I was here two years ago; so was I another year before. Every once I visit this place bore no purpose but to search for the particular vibe of the imminent winter. Winter of darkness, winter of frigidness; let it be repelled by the lofty torchlight of warmth. Past years I have walked by the lake, but none of these moments did I witness myself traversing through the alley. At least I have come with something, so long as they will be remembered as well.

Much have we arrived. Dramatic, the arrival of us coincided with the appearance of the moon. A round, a circle; an obelisk to be revered and followed, an orb to be admired. The moon is the completion of the circle, the ultimate pursuit under the night. Just as once its light penetrates through shadows and leaves, lighting up the night path and the lone man, the moon shall for once more become my astonishment. Upon the lake shows the mirrored image of the moon, trees, and branches of a few. What a duality of mind: one as real and as clear, yet it conceals no secrets, leaving all for the else to view; the other so obscured and unfathomable, as a chamber that hides in depths and with thoughts unseen.

Upon the night canvas paints the light orb of the moon, the mere brightness over the darkest time. It bears much remembrance: the moon is the torchlight; the moon is the Celebration; the moon resembles the creation of mine in light of the darkest winter – that was when I found the residence of warmth. But the moon is also the witness of experiences: for once I came to visit, and for another once I came, yet the moon hangs still. The moon is the everlasting circle, the eternity to be observed. Alas, if I were to stay within a moment for the rest of my life, what shall I do in response?

We have stepped for long. We have stepped into the alley where no one else would recognize; it hence becomes the moment of us alone. It has been night; it has been dark. Friend, tell me what you have perceived within such setting. You have long been holding your aspiration for an empty field, and you are the lone explorer who meditates upon the spectacles of natural scenes. It therefore follows that every day would come with distinctive novelty, filling up your longed life. Ah, we have come far enough. Barely could I hear the noises from crowds ahead; it would be close enough.

And a gate lies in between: one side falls so silent, with but a loner meditating upon his experience; the other lies with vibrancy and warmth. The gate is the exchange between the inner and the outer world, between the mirroring and the reality… Hence shall I name it the limbo, much as what I have witnessed before: the mountain that stands between the spiritual and the actual, the building that borders a noisy road and a peaceful path…

Cross it over, so we will be once more embraced by the limitless light; cross it over, so the journey will meet its finale upon the returning to my residence; cross it over, draw the last segment of the circle, fulfill our intentions.

Indeed. What we have searched is but a circle, the peace of mind. Follow the moonlit path, so will you reach it in the end.