Portrait of the sky

‘Erin, why can’t we see the stars in the daytime?’ Her little eyes looked up at me, willing an answer.
I peered back out my bedroom window, searching the blue sky. Other than a few clouds sprinkled about, it was a clear, bright morning.
‘Hmm…that is a great question, Kitti. I think it’s because the sun is so bright that we can’t see them. But they haven’t gone away, they’re still out there.’
She furrowed her brow for a moment, thinking this over.
‘I think it’s because stars are yellow and the sky is blue.’ She contested.
‘Well, that’s absolutely true too. It’s like the sun paints over them every morning with the sky.’
She smiled at that. ‘Yeah, you know, when you paint dark blue on yellow then it becomes light blue.’
Smart little cookie…
I smiled back at her and said, ‘But look, we can still see the moon. Isn’t that funny?’ I pointed to the half moon still high in the morning sky. Her big, blue eyes followed my finger outside.
‘Oh yeah! Why is the moon still there?’
Why indeed.
Why doesn’t the moon just move on, like she’s supposed to? Why does she just sit there, so vulnerable, slowly burning up? Her gaze fixed on one point, never flinching.
‘Maybe the moon likes painting too.’ Kitti said, finally.
I was stumped. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Well you need the white of the moon to make the blue in the sky.’
‘Ok…so is the moon the painter, or the sun?’ I asked, clearly in the presence of genius.
‘The sun is painting, and the moon likes to watch. But then the moon puts the stars on later.’
‘Do you think the moon likes watching?’
‘It is a pretty picture the sun paints every morning, isn’t it?’
‘Yeah, but when the clouds come they have to go away.’
‘Oh, well where do they go?’
‘I don’t know.’ She said, sadly.
It was my turn to squish my face into an inquisition, searching for answers, shuffling around thoughts. At last, I said, ‘Maybe they run away together while no one can see them. Maybe they’re playing hide and seek with the world when the clouds cover for them. They work pretty hard at their jobs, don’t you think? To light up the world, keep everything alive, and well after they have put the world to bed, they continue to make sure everything stays in running order. Day in, day out. So every now and then, they just need a little rest. A quiet place to flop into. A world just for them. A place to call home.’
‘That’s like when I get home from school. I just want to play with Bunny in my room because I miss her so much when I’m gone.’
‘Yeah, you’re not allowed to take her to school, right?’
‘Yeah, that makes me sad.’
‘I know, sweetheart. Does Bunny get sad too?’
‘Have you ever thought that maybe Bunny thinks you’re just playing a game? Just like the sun and the moon playing hide and seek?’
‘Yeah.’ A grin spread over her little face. ‘I love hide and seek! You wanna play with me?’
How can I say no to that face? I sighed.
‘I sure do. You’ve got until the count of ten!’
As I closed my eyes, I could hear her scuttling away, squealing involuntarily.

And for a moment, there, behind my eyes, the sun and the moon sat gazing into one another. Captivated. In their own private universe.

The next moment, they were gone.

I began to count.


Moon Dance

800px-Crescent_MoonIt starts in a quaint leafy garden. I sit in a daydream on the cute little rickety bench. It is dusk: the changing of the guards in the sky. Jimmy Morrison is quietly wailing inside, wafting out the back door. You’re wandering from room to room –

Where’s my belt?

Slicking your hair –

Here it is.

So charming, so handsome as you stare intently.

Right, I think that’s all I need…

You don’t say anything you just look at me with a knowing and –

What are you smiling at?

“Why are you sitting out here in the rain?” You ask, joining me on the bench.

It’s raining – ha! I hadn’t even noticed. Then, a single, lingering –

A little kiss.

A soft assuredness. I hold your gaze. You quietly hum along to Jimmy.

I wet my lips. I can still feel the urgency of your mouth on mine, your warm hand cupping my cheek, as you press into me. You draw your face away but I lift my legs onto your lap and slide in closer to you, your mouth, your breath still close.

“Come on, we should go inside.”

My heart sinks. “We should.” I say.

Your lips grab a sting of wet skin at my neck sending a chill up my spine. But then you’re gone, swallowed up by the house, by the day. The thrill racing through my body gets me up to standing. I am wired. I want to hold this feeling – my skin tingling – I can’t contain it. I surge forward.

The slam of the back door snaps me awake. She’s gone. Raindrops pound on my bedroom window. I squint, straining to see through the thick wall of rain, searching. A thunderclap booms.
 A flicker darts across my yard. A burst of lightning and she’s there – bones, limbs flashing – just for a moment.

Wait it’s gone.
The wind groans and – wait, no – my blood beating. I’m still dreaming. I know it. Wake up! I want to see! That’s insane. Why would anyone be out…? My eyes dart around the room. Wake up! I’m alone in the bed. I remind myself again. The pillows next to me still hold the concave shape where her head lay. But I am alone. My blood pumps faster as my eyes search the darkness once more.

Thunder groans.

I wait for the lightning to strike. The wind howls, billowing across the window pane until – yes! Finally the light cracks and her eyes slap me in the face, wicked… taunting… They are locked into mine. A shrill down my spine pulls me under the windowsill. My heart is pounding. It’s dark.

The naked banshee is out there, exposed by the light. She’s waiting. She saw me, too. I grab my nerve and slowly crawl back from my hiding space. The darkness has slipped away slightly so I can just make her out. I sit dumbfounded, in awe. It feels childish, sick, pervy even. But I can’t look away. She is…

Suddenly the wind whips her hair sky high. Her body ripples, it cowers and lets out a hideous shriek. The rain is pounding down. Her heavy hair clutches desperately at her back. Her pale skin sparkles in the moonlight. She flicks her head back, suddenly violent, mouth wide to lap it up. Her arms outstretched, her eyes wild. It’s intoxicating. I can barely breathe. But then a giggle falls out of my mouth, catching me by surprise. I’m drowning and she’s dancing, mooching, seductive and slow. Her shrill laughter leaps over the storm. She’s glorious! She’s everywhere and everything and stop! Stop this! Stop it now! I want you here!

And then she’s gone. Where…?

I dart quickly back through the squeaky, snapping door. I want you to feel this.

Then I hear the snap of the door. The urgent footsteps down the corridor. Fuck. Fuck. I’m fucking shitting it – quick! No! Don’t move a muscle. Sleep!

Darkness. I scan the room: the outline of the bed, the window, the drawers. Then, slowly you appear. I can just make out your torso, your broad shoulders looking up to the ceiling. I stand staring at you. You have no idea I am here, do you?

I can hear you dripping on the floor.

I’m soaked. My hair clings to me. The chill of it slips down my body and forms a puddle at my feet.

I hear you tiptoe quietly.

I tiptoe carefully, quietly round the base of the bed. I want to look at you. To see your face, your skin, the shape of your back as it cascades along to your waist. Stripped bare. I could do anything to you right at this moment. You don’t even know who I am, what I’m capable of. Your hand lies close to your face, strong and gentle. I remember the palm of that hand, holding, pressing, loving my skin.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” I hear you say, slowly waking up.

The sun is rising. You reach out drowsily and clutch my hand. For a moment I can feel you.

“Don’t leave me.”

But you know I have to.

I put my head on your chest, wrap my arms tightly around your waist and tell you I will never let you go.

Say it.

“I don’t want to let you go.”

Again. Quick!

“I don’t want to let you go.”

I hold you close.
 It’s just you and me, gently rocking back and forth.

I don’t want to.

Don’t wake up.

But I don’t

Please, sleep.

Don’t go.

Please! Don’t!

But as I rise every morning, she is gone.



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I dare not look away from her gentle eyes for fear that they might shatter into a thousand tiny stars.

“This cannot be.” I hear her say, “It is time to move on.”

I cannot get these last words out of my mind. That, and the moment we met. All those years ago.

Her startling, blue eyes flashed up at mine as she boarded the tram. Panic washed over her face as she caught my eye before her pretty features scanned for a seat. A smirk crept over my face, shuffling in my seat, as the thrill shot through my body. Her head adopted a slight tilt as she stared out the window, giving way to the dreamy lilt of her world as she drew in a long, deep breath.

“Next stop Commercial Road. This tram will turn at Commercial Road.”

The tram tugged on the bearings below, wincing to a stop. She scrambled with the tiny clasp on her little red bag. Finally stuffing her phone inside, she leapt off her seat and made a bee line for the door, her tall heels clumping loudly on the hard floor.

My senses rocketed as I stood close behind her. I could see the tiny blonde hairs on the back of her exposed neck. The skin on her neck tightened as her head turned over her shoulder, her lips pouting, before snapping out of my vision to greet the opening doors. A soft, sweet scent wafted over me as I stepped through the ghostly remnants of her figure.

She wandered further along the tram stop, pausing as the tram slid away. I flung myself up onto the railing and perched my bum onto the cold metal bar. The thud of my bag hitting the concrete made her neck and shoulders jerk in my direction. I quickly caught her gaze. A broad, brilliant smile spread across her face. She quickly hid it from me, but I’d already caught the disease – my face also breaking into an involuntary smile. My eyes eagerly traced the slim line of her legs and waist.

The headlights of the oncoming tram bore down on us. Man that got here fast – too fast. She recoiled from the brightness and cocked her head towards me again. This time she didn’t look away but rather took a ride over my body, her eyes ducking swiftly from my feet to my crotch, flitting to my brow before finally coming to rest on my eyes again. It was my turn to flash my pearly smile and I did so, confidently now. She was hooked.

She barely seemed to notice the tram hurtle boisterously into the stop beside her.

“Hi.” I said. Her body jolted slightly, stunned.

“Hi.” Came her confident reply, her voice shocking me momentarily. It was strong, mature and womanly. It seemed odd against her small frame. My heart raced. That’s intimidating. She’s different.

“I’m Surya.” I choked out, my confidence escaping me.

She bit her lip before replying in her warm, melodic voice, “Chandra.”

The bell of the tram rang into the night air, penetrating the tunnel vision that had taken over us. My head jerked away from her eyes as I leapt off the railing. When I looked up again, she had vanished. I clambered onto the tram, my head tossing around wildly in search of her.

There. She was staring straight at me. The side of her mouth turned up at the edges. The carriage was silent and empty around us. The disease took us both then, ridiculous grins running rampant. I strolled carefully and deliberately towards her. As I slid into the seat beside her, our eyes locked.

“Hello again. Are you following me?” I teased.

She grinned. A wild, cheeky flash in her eye now. “I guess it would appear that way now, wouldn’t it?”


Candra or Chandra (चन्द्र) comes from the Sanskrit word meaning “moon” or “luminous, as in the light from the moon”.

Regarding the philosophy behind Hatha Yoga, it is understood that ideally, in perfect health, a male predominantly expresses those qualities attributed to the Sun and a female predominantly expresses the Moon qualities. – See more here.