We live in the light of the moon, always seeking the sun.

Lost in the eternal blue night, can it ever be found?

The world always spinning as we travel it’s circumference, the twilight always just out of reach, no matter where we stand.

Do we even truly desire the sun when we have learned to count the stars?

Should it’s light rob us of that which we currently see, and of our natural sight, left only with a blinding white?

Do we seek the sun merely because we cannot see it?

Do we seek understanding only because it is always just barely out of reach.

Why do some convince themselves that they can see the sun through its mere reflection in the blue orb we call our worlds light.

Can we possibly hope to understand something on the other side of the planet forever far away, and yet so close?

Can we ever hope to have anything except what we see?

Should we be sad that the stars do not answer our questions? Or merely glad that we can ask them?