I am listening to Chopin's Nocturnes tonight and staring out of my window at the clouds moving past the moon. The ring around the moon, dazzling, incandescent, yet shadowed by a sheet of silver silk sweeping across it's face. I find myself searching for it's light to luminesce through the pane once again, but it's light pales behind the milky curtain of fog.
We long for beauty, we search tirelessly for it. It often escapes our notice. I fail to recognize the sheer exquisiteness of the moon until it stares me in the face and demands my full attention. I can't help but be entranced. I see a pattern in my life of ignorance and even self-deception to the things which are truly beautiful around me. If I am honest with myself, at my very core, I long for those things which are most pure. This is far more alluring than the cheap substitutes to which I readily give myself over.
Tonight I am falling asleep to Chopin's bewitching melody. The clair de lune dancing through my curtain, reminding me of the beauty that God created for us and in us. It's tune is resonant, demanding an acknowledgment of a Master of beauty creating beyond what any human can even dare to imagine.
