The 5 am moon is still hanging; stars still pitched in the black onyx sky. Soon it’ll fade out to a drab silver, then into a powder blue. Morning will sweep aside specks of light, like dusting a tabletop. And that luminous crescent will dangle seemingly too long into the dawn, until the sun outshines it. Then it’ll bow out, back to its shadow to await the next summoning.
The sun and moon perform a celestial waltz of sorts: stepping in, then stepping out; twirls, on and off the dappled dance floor. And for a sliver of time, they curtsy one another, from east to west, and we behold the divine tension that is darkness and light.
The Artist mixes the pigments in the palette sky, and creates a heavenly heather as they box step around each dawn and dusk. It’s nearly impossible to see where one begins and ends, here in the hazy horizon. Yet, the gradient subtly slides across the firmament, and smeared clouds appear as the hues saturate with gleaming color. All the brushstrokes of morning are revealed now. And the dancers respectfully give way to one another, that each could shine as soloist and masterpiece.