Quiet Alignment

A child stands in the quiet night,

a balloon at hand,

a candle flickering too.

The moon hides behind the drifting sphere,

a soft secret held in trembling string.

Its glow circles the edges,

silver trying to spill through red.

The child gazes upward,

eyes wide with the ancient wonder

that adults forget.

Candlelight warms his cheek,

balloonlight cools the sky—

two small suns,

one gently rising,

one gently held.

He does not ask

where the moon has gone.

He simply watches,

breath steady,

trusting the moment

to reveal or not reveal

what it will.

In that stillness,

balloon, candle, child, and sky

fall into quiet alignment—

a constellation of being

glowing softly in the dark.