And while I have you here, inexplicably close without a shred of evidence to prove it, I speak to you. I speak to you in words that have no syllables, no letters. I ask for a million things: guidance, protection, insight, clarity... anything that I'm struggling to find for myself. But as the list of wordless prayers stretches on, it melts into the warm buzz of your love. And I am silent.
My heart reminds me that there's nothing I need from you now that I can't provide for myself. This exercise in connecting heaven and earth is just my mind's way of checking that you're still here. And you are. But you're no longer my moon or my stars. You're not even the subtle glow of a night sky cloaked in clouds.