My imagination is tethered to a long loose leash. It runs wild and rampant against the forces of nature. It meanders places where normal aliens never travel. It reaches great heights and dips down into deep valleys and crevices. It writes love notes in puffs of white clouds and sings along with the wind. My imagination contains no boundaries or constraints and holds no strict rules or regulations.
Last night as I looked up at the milky white half moon my first thought was that it was a half eaten vanilla moon pie. I prefer the chocolate moon pies myself but to each his own.
I stand outside in the dark of the evening gazing with the intensity of a floor mat at the creamy moon resting high in the sky. The leash moved against the night breeze and gave me a little tug. I stared a little harder at the half circle in the sky surrounded by blinking stars or perhaps alien ships.
And there right before my eyes the creamy milk white half moon showed me his face. I saw his deep set eyes and the hint of a smile slip across his lips. The moon became alive with life and ignited my imagination into a wild fire burning furiously across the night sky.
The moon has a heart and a soul and most obviously a sense of humor. He looked like an animated metal moon one can buy and place upon the living room wall or the silly painted moon earrings I once purchased and so soon lost. Sometimes we see and feel what we need to see and feel. Imagination is a good thing.
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