Give the moon a story

     I was once a part of all that mess going on dawn there. But that was millions of years ago, though it seems like longer.
     When the earth was new, I was a part of it. Together we were a fiery, erupting mass of forming planet. If we had stayed together, we might now have room for all those people running around down there now. We could have made a nice big roomy planet, but I had to leave. I didn’t like the way things were going, so I decided to stand back and watch for a little while, hoping things would go better so I could rejoin my larger companion. But I began to drift away, further and further, out of my control. So when I decided it was time to rejoin, I could not.
     So here I have been, for countless centuries, looking down at the earth, as the earth looks up at me. I have drifted away from the warmth of my companion, and have become cold, desolate and uninhabitable, while the earth below is worm and teeming with life in countless varieties. It is lonely being a cold rock in space, but I know there is life near, so that is a comfort.
     And I have watched that aalife come from tiny little single cells to complex, thinking, feeling beings. I have watched the beings grow from the most primitive to the intricately complex beings that they are now. They have formed and destroyed many civilizations, and I have watched them come and go. I have watched their cruelty and kindness, wonder and desire, discovery and failure, delight and misery. I have watched them follow the influence of others of their kind, some well deserved others not worthy of any of their attention. I have seen them thrive and flourish, eventually moving toward the world aware society abuzz with activity as they are today.
     Well, all of this can make a lowly “moon” feel pretty lonely. I have noticed that, throughout all this time, these beings of earth have stared up at me and dreamed, wished, and planned. I am so far away, that to reach me would be their best achievement. For centuries they looked up and wondered, but not until just a little while ago did they get to the point where they could come visit.
     And they did come all the way out here to see me up close and personal. Millions of them all over the world watched as the first people, in special suits to counteract my lack of proper air, stepped on me for the first time. They were quite nice about it. They took some of my sand and rocks to look at further when they got back, and they left a few things of their own on me, including strange little footprints, But only a few of them came, then other earthly things began to consume their interests. After all, they had achieved the big goal, to get to me.
     Now they are consumed with their technology. They are leaving big piles of proof of their existence everywhere. They are ruining my earth companion. They are putting little machines everywhere, on their desks, on their hands, in their cells, and even in the orbit of their only planet. I fear that soon I will not be able to see what is going on through those “satellites.” I liked it better, merely a short little time ago when I was the only satellite, the moon.

17 March, 2000
From a writing journal exercise


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