I am not one to dance with my arms and my legs. I’m not agile enough to coordinate my bodily extensions in an artistic fashion. Nor do I let my body move freely to the rythym and the melody. Discomfort may be the reason, or restraint.

Interestingly, I do dance in a less conventional way that doesn’t involve the body or music, at least not in a way that would immediately appeal to common sense. She, a magician from distant lands, calls it the Dance of Luna, a fitting name if you ask me, for it is a dance of two planetary bodies that attract and repel each other in perpetual motion.

The moon disappears in day but shines bright at night. That she does in modulation as well. One night she appears in full, one partially, another not at all. One night she grows in the night sky, illuminating all around, one she shrinks to the size of an ant, another she hides beneath clouds, gazing between small gaps now and then. One night she flies afloat as early as she can, another she delays her appearance long, being visible only briefly. It is, though, a dance of two.

In the receiving end of each surprise manuever, I must be quick to interpret and land my response accordingly. It is my part to keep the pendulum moving. So I play my nocturns every night, calling for her welcomingly. I reflect the light of the Moon in my eyes when she shines, and I shed my light to the shadowy sky when she hides. I carry out my daily numbers in the daylight and accompany musical notes rising from the other side of the sky so that the moon isn’t lonely even if it seems so.

As far as I can see, this dance of call and response came out to be purely coincidentally, a magical accident that keeps two bodies bound to each other for a day and more, seemingly forever. But there are few who know, deep down in its core, the Earth is afraid to lose its Moon, and though she craves for her freedom, the Moon likes to have somewhere to cling to. Together, they dance, and waves clash. They dance, and a light blinks in the day sky. They dance, and an orb of hope pierces the darkness of night.