The day’s arrival delayed as the sun climbed the mountains. There, perfectly placed between a portal of leaves was the moon, laughing to be the light of the day. To my eyes, a white blur but I know her silhouette and I smiled. I sat in awe looking at the image my camera captured. Where is the rest of her face? I don’t understand the science, the tilting of planets and stars that hides what is there. How can a tilt blend her face into the dawn’s blue sky as if it wasn’t there?  Then the whisper from the poet Hafiz,

The sweet moon vision whispers to each and all “I love you.” But what does the half-moon created by a tilt say? I am far from perfect, so imagine myself to be quite tilted. What voice would the sweet half-moon vision of my eyes offer? And then the final whisper…

Yours to hear.