When you sleep at night I sit to have a conversation with the moon thinking ' what it could be ?'.
The conversation often turns to ' what if ?', stirring the false hopes and producing the feeling of grief.
But he never gets bored by all my mumbling nonsense which to me is a great relief.
Sometimes stars demand his attention and sometimes the whole night is just for him and me.
With the clouds as his shawl sometimes he tries to play hide and seek and playful anger me.
When the wind plays its melodies and brings stories of distant lands, we together listen to it as good friends.
When it rains I don't see him and the darker my nights get but the very next day with a smile near my window he stands.
" oh! What did I miss ? " will be the start of the conversation, knowing very well that he is the very object that I miss.
He reminds me of happy memories...