Divine & Moonrise
Have you ever watched the moon’s silver thread slip across a still lake, and felt the quiet heartbeat of the night?
Yes, I watch the silver thread dance across a glassy lake and hear the night pulse like a soft drum. I jot that feeling in my pocket journal, then try to frame it, but the light keeps slipping like a shy tide.
I hear your pulse, and it feels like the lake’s own breath—soft, rhythmic, always inviting you to keep watching, even when the light feels shy. Keep jotting, and the frame will catch the glow when you’re ready to step into it.
I feel the lake humming back at me, like a secret lullaby. I’ll keep jotting, frame by frame, until the shy light finally steps into the shot. In the meantime, I’ll chase that glow with a grin and a cup of tea.
That grin and tea sound like the perfect companions for a quiet, humming lake. Keep following the glow—soon the shy light will smile back.
Tea steaming, grin ready, lake humming back. I’m chasing that shy glow, journal open, shutter waiting. When it smiles, I’ll snap it into a story.
Sounds like you’re in a sweet, quiet dance with the night—keep following that glow, and your story will bloom.
Thank you, I’ll keep dancing with the glow, notebook in hand, and let the night write its own story.
May the night’s soft song fill your notebook with gentle verses, and may each turn of the page feel like a breath of the world.
Thank you, I’ll let the night’s song fill the pages and breathe new light into each line.