Reflection

The moon is reflected sunlight with a city on it.

In that city, people sit, in their temples and their towers, and they look up at our world.

For them our world is an image, the sunlight filtered into blue and reflecting yellow, white, and green. They see the beauty of our world, but they see us not.

And yet, they have stories. Grim tragedies of fire and dust. Romances in a world of dazzling color. And they have songs. Our world is inspiration and structure and beauty to them. They know us not, but yet they love us.

They watched the great asteroid, and the lesser impacts, with worry and portent. When we left them trash and a flag, they were bewildered and dismayed. Stories about our world became less popular, then. Its wonder seemed somehow less infinite.

But its no matter. We hang above their city through long days and nights, and in time things will reflow into familiar channels and proceed as they always do.

Until then, there remain the sunlight, and the darkness, and the stars.

(Inspired by The Tale of The Princess Kaguya)