And Now The Universe Is Speaking

Arrayed over the rocky peak, the night sky put on an audacious show for us. The crescent moon peered over the treetops. Stars pulsed in time with my heartbeat. And if I stood still enough, I could trace the path of the planets before vertigo threatened to overtake me. Not that I’d admit it to Calliope, who sat cross-legged beside me, back straight, eyes closed.

“Do you hear it?” she whispered.

“The tree frogs?”

Her face glowed in the starlight. “The planets. The stars. And everything in between.”

“Did you get into those cannabis gummies and now the universe is speaking to you?”

“Musica Universalis, you ass. The music of the spheres.”

“So you’re high, and the stars’re singing to you?”

“The celestial bodies move in harmony, you troglodyte. The pattern of the universe emits tones you can feel in your soul.”

“So, they’re humming a tune?” I started snapping my fingers and swaying to my own beat. “Like Van Morrison’s Moondance.” Calliope scowled. So, I naturally started singing, “Well, it’s a marvelous night for a moondance.”

“You’re not even trying.” She unfurled from her perch, and I kind of hoped she’d join me. She didn’t.

“Okay, I’ll listen. What’d the universe say?”

“That you’re an idiot.” She stumbled over the rocks in her hurry to leave.

“Fair enough,” I told the starry sky, then stumbled after her, resuming my serenade. “Can I just have one more moondance with you, my love?”

“No!”

“Ouch, I felt that in my soul.”

Photo by Greg Rahozy