la transformación

Sunday night, I sat on the deck of the bar, listening to the waves as I poured over language acquisition theories, approaches and methods. Something on the horizon caught my eye. A glimmer of burnished orange rose through the clouds, teasingly. Gradually the glimmer became a grand orb hanging low on the horizon as if it were too heavy to rise any further. Like a coquette, it tauntingly played behind the clouds, revealing only glimpses of what I knew to be the whole. Appearing and disappearing, it rose.

Ascending slowly, its aspect and color began to alter as if the clouds were a dressing screen and the moon a beautiful woman changing behind it. The burnished orange gave way to deep gold like the sun setting. I wondered if it were truly night or day. The moon emerged wrapped in a mantle of of gold, creating a halo of light that encircled this lady luna and I thought must assuredly begin to light the sky as the birth of a new day...but it was not to be. The clouds once again swirled near, expensive furs, once again obsuring the details. When she once again appeared, she seemed to be made of the soft sunlight of spring. More slight of frame, delicate, demure and out of place in the darkness. My heart wanted to rescue her, bring her to daylight, let her light pour forth over flowers. The clouds returned in wisps like ghosts. They wrapped the damsel tightly for many moments. When finally she was free once more, she was smaller and yet perfect. There was something other-worldly about this delicate nymph of silvery light. Silver and graceful, she sailed into the sky like a swan at dusk.