Title: Silver Moon Shining
Author: Cropper
Pairing: GSR
Rating: K? Teen? There is nothing naughty in here, not even a profanity
Disclaimer: I do not own them but I wish I did. I mean no harm or infringement and will return everyone to his or her rightful owners when I finish, I promise.
Summary: Random thoughts.
A/N: Thank you, mingsmommy and Smacky30, for the awesome beta work. LiT, Domo Arigato and Cincoflex deserve a huge thanks for the sanity check. And, as always, much love to the Eejits. They are my constants.
There was a woman I saw on the street
I swear she was wearing the moon on her feet.
She said, "Do you know me?"
I said, "I don't know."
She told me to listen
And then I could go.
This room is my haven, my safe place where I seek refuge and the courage to be myself without fear of judgment. The slate blue walls resemble the desert sky before the touch of sunrise, a time of hazy reflection and hope that settles me, grounds me, helps to still the roaring thoughts that often overpower me even in my sleep. A splash of colorful landscape above the loam-covered bed adds to the serenity of this cavern; a reminder of all that is beautiful in a world too-often over painted with filth and grime.
Occasionally an errant breeze steals through the open window to stir the pale blue heartleaf Asters dozing in a cut-glass vase. Their simple fragrance is barely detected on the wind, a fragile scent blending all too easily with the seclusion and restfulness of this inner sanctum. A few pages from an open book on the nightstand ruffle softly in response to the waving stars and whisper secrets against the soft sounds of breathing I long to hear.
I should be at the lab or, at the very least, plowing through some of the overdue correspondence that has managed to swallow my desk here at home. Instead, I am mesmerized as I watch her sleep; hypnotized by the steady cadence of her chest slowly rising and falling in the soft moonlight sneaking through the heavy drapes. I sit in a chair beside our bed, not wanting to disturb her slumber with my restless yearnings as the pale light carves incandescent patterns upon her fair skin.
She said,
"I am the course that the river is winding
I am the horse that the angel is riding
I am the source of the love you are finding
Do you know who I am?
It is blinding,
I am the star
In the black sky shining."
We are both creatures of the night, comfortable in the shadows and blackness that surrounds our lives and yet, even in that darkness, Sara has always managed to shine with an inner light that neither the gloom nor the horrors that so saturate our conscious moments could ever begin to shutter.
For a long, solitary time, I thought Sara was the angel of my dreams; something I could only hope to possess in that ethereal realm where reality dare not intrude. Lately I have come to realize that Sara is slightest sliver of the waning moon, casting just enough light in my world to finally illuminate the man she has always seen within me.
Eyes still closed, she turns her face towards me and slides around the pillows and tangled sheets in an attempt to find a more comfortable position. Her injuries are rapidly healing but every now and then a faint line of pain will crease her brow or cause her mouth to tighten before she once again marshals the strength to push it all away. Forever scarred by pain, Sara has suffered deep channels in her soul and has never been defeated. Yes, she has been severely tested to the point of breaking but has always fought back time and time again with a grace and ferocity that is breathtaking in its utter simplicity.
There was a child I saw on the road
I asked, "Are you lost with nowhere to go?"
He said, "No, I'm not,
I believe that you are."
And told me to sit
On the hood of the car.
I shift in my uncomfortable chair and lean forward until I am able to faintly graze the skin of her wrist with my finger. I carefully feel for her pulse and let her inner rhythm soothe me, the familiar beat of her life tamps down the despair that still arises when I allow myself to consider what might have been had any one variable been just slightly skewed another direction.
Her gentle fragrance, a crisp cool melon reminiscent of freshly laundered sheets floating on a soft summer breeze, coils around me. My persistent melancholy loosens a little more and I realize that those furrows etched by pain have become the pathway to our future. We are not the same people we were when we met. We have changed and grown and shifted against ourselves and each other.
Just as time and experience have refined us, so too have my perceptions of Sara become clearer. For so many years I saw her as an angel, a lovely gossamer waif full of mystery and desire. I don't see her that way anymore.
Despite the fact that I am not exactly Catholic anymore, I am a spiritual person. One does not need the trappings of organized religion in order to find wonder among the smaller rituals associated with daily living. I do think about angels and demons, both the living we encounter as we pass through our lives and the fantastical/mythological beings of my youth. Sara is no longer the angel of my lonely dreams; she is much too powerful and strong for such wispy classification.
My vision is clearer and my dream comes to me when I am fully awake. I now realize that Sara as the driving force behind our guardian angel, the guiding spirit we have together created to personify the hope we share for everything that can be and for the now limitless possibilities I allow myself to contemplate when I grant my mind the freedom to explore what the future might hold for me, for her, for us.
He said,
"I am the cry of the woman who's dying
I am the wings of the sparrow who's flying
I am the hope of the child who's crying
Do you know who I am?
It is blinding,
I am the star
In the black sky shining."
A part of me wishes she would wake up. The world never seems more right, more real, when viewed through the thousands of promises reflected deep within her beautiful brown eyes. The best and brightest of all of those promises is love. The most precious gift she has ever bestowed upon me is showing me my own reflection and teaching me how to love in return.
I don't mean loving Sara; loving her was at once the easiest and hardest thing I have ever done. She showed me how to love those who have been conspiring for years to build a family around me and to not only see within myself what she has always known was there but to also learn to love myself a little as well.
She looks so peaceful, so serene. I cannot resist the temptation to lean just a little closer and inhale her exquisite scent before dropping a feather-light kiss on her temple She breathes a tiny sigh and a small grin graces her features before she is pulled back into deeper sleep.
I feel her unconquerable spirit surround me and let her slip back into those silver dreams and black stars because I know that she will always find her way back home to me. And I will be sitting right here watching over her, lighting her path and awaiting her return. She is my beacon, my hope, my star in the black sky shining.
"I am the heart of the warrior child
I am the moment the beast becomes mild
I am the part of the soul that is wild
I am the answer you're finding
I am the star
In the black sky shining."
"The Star in the Black Sky Shining", Music and Lyrics by John Stewart. The song is available on iTunes on the album HAVANA.